


Love Feeturing You

by KASPIAN (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crushes, Foot Fetish, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Break Up, Romantic Comedy, Smut, thigh-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/KASPIAN
Summary: ‘’Do you have some vodka?’’ Kyungsoo bleakly asks. ‘’For healing purposes, I mean.’’‘’I’ve got some chai tea,’’ Mineral Boy replies under his breath, like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, apparently thinking that chai tea will fix bullet holes and broken hearts.





	Love Feeturing You

 

It’s ridiculous that he’s walking home barefooted; scowl intensified when his heel grazes a stone on the sidewalk.

On the other hand, it’s even more ridiculous that he was the only one thinking that they were dating for who knows how long.

Because his, as of recently, ex-boyfriend thought otherwise, the one who’s casually broken up with Kyungsoo about half an hour ago, who’s housing an apartment some blocks and a supposedly fifteen minutes’ walk away from Kyungsoo’s own.

The guy wanted sex, he admitted. That was why he stayed.

It’s as simple as that.

He’d been in love with Kyungsoo during the first couple of months of their relationship that started a month before their graduation of high school.

The other two years of kisses, fake heart-to-heart talks, disgusting emoticons and evening visits… they’d been for the sake of having someone to warm his bed.

Kyungsoo’s begrudgingly walking home, and he’d been so angry that he’d thrown his shoes at the guy (he’ll never mention the name again, a process of the world wide phenomenon known as the most efficient healing process), then proceeded to run down the street and out of sight.

From another perspective, it could easily look like some rom-com cliché.

Kyungsoo feels like the main character from a movie, one who just got cheated on, though he doesn’t think twice about the cheating thing. He’s pretty sure if he asked about it, he’d get a most feared answer or a lie as slippery and white as mayonnaise.

All he needs right might be a long wig, mascara running down his cheeks and a pair of high heels dangling from his fingers, and a bottle of vodka from the nearby kiosk to take a swig of this late at night.

Or perhaps another scenario where he wears a snapback, is playing deafening music in earphones to pretend he can’t hear or feel his own sobbing rack through his body, wear a  _ ‘marriage equals  _ **_GAME OVER_ ** _ ’ _  shirt and drag a bag containing tons of cheap alcohol and monster energy cans after himself.

It’d create the perfect, most stereotypical  _ post-mortem _  picture of nowadays love.

Except he doesn’t wear high heels, frankly – he’s not wearing shoes, and he’s not a snapback kind of guy. He’s merely a simple closeted man who was so damn lucky he found a guy in high school, his first love, who happened to love him back.

However, it turns out that guy didn’t love Kyungsoo anyway. Hasn’t done so for a couple of silly years where Kyungsoo’s only felt wearier for every day he’s had to pretend he couldn’t see it from a mile’s distance.

He can’t even go to his brother or his parents to cry about it, because they’ve never known he’s had that connection to any male before.

Coincidentally, the guy Kyungsoo dated didn’t care much for telling people about their relationship anyway; he’d rather keep it a secret, while Kyungsoo was hoping that someday they could reveal it and be in it together, for better or worse.

Kyungsoo’s friends don’t know anything about it either; the cherry on top.

To narrow the perspective, they haven’t seen Kyungsoo’s face for months, because the latter hasn’t been with his usual social circle; too busy with studying and tending his part-time job as a barista at a small coffee bar and café around the livelier part of the city.

Plus, being stressed with lowkey knowing that his not-very-much-boyfriend was a shithead and only wanted sex – kind of tore down Kyungsoo’s energy to the point he hadn’t bothered being around.

This is the climax.

Kyungsoo walking down the lone street, forlornly singing  _ ‘Fuck You’ _  by Lily Allen, a classic he streams on his phone, followed by howling to the sound of another legendary song, ‘ _ Gotta Go My Own Way’ _  by Troy and Gabriella – and for the loving sake of irony,  _ ‘Love Never Felt So Good’ _  by Michael Jackson.

The air is crisp, so his tears have already dried up, though he’s pretty sure it won’t be long before his eyes will be spilling tears worth many years again.

He can easily conclude he’s reached the  _ Fuck Everything _  state, after the first stage called  _ Hysterical Outbreak _ .

Most guys have that thing where they react a month after the breakup. During the first week, they might visit lots of clubs with their friends or hang around to forget they have feelings, claiming that the single life is top notch.

Being a local guy, Kyungsoo at least wishes he had that kind of luxury setting on his emotions. He doesn’t. He’s far too emotional beneath the thick eyebrows that as a contrast are said to make him look devoid, so he’s got to deal with ten thousand feelings all at once and the constant urge to spit a sublime **** _ the fuck you lookin’ at  _ to every unmoving object around him, happy he’s not on a full street in daylight.

This isn’t the same numbness that comes from being drunk.

This is different, and yet it still makes him feel light in his head and heavy at the same time, incredibly tired, filter-less, granting him a throbbing headache that can go on for days.

His gait can’t even be called walking. It’s more like staggering mixed with swaggering and limping, his heel hurting slightly from the stone that absolutely had to be right there between the few patches of overgrown weed in the pavement.

He should congratulate his ex.

An amazing feat, isn’t it?

Staying in a relationship to have sex, throwing a few ‘ _ I love you’s  _ to make the other stay a little longer, using the person’s feelings to one’s own advantage, then throwing them aside once the sex isn’t interesting anymore, no communication present whatsoever.

Kyungsoo should have a medal as well.

For, you know, being pretty good at staying in a relationship for the sake of his own selfish love that made him turn his back on everyone else and even his own health.

For being stupid enough to stay with a guy like that, deep down knowing it only consisted of sex, occasional compliments and a promise made in the end year of high school when they were younger.

That’s pretty amazing too, actually.

This stupidity.

This hopelessness caused by love.

That’s amazing.

Amazingly terrifying.

And so time consuming.

Pointless.

It’s so  _ stupid _ .

Kyungsoo runs a hand over his tired eyes, trying not to think about the face imprinted behind his eyelids, the deeply rooted feelings, the mannerism of a certain guy he’s so  **_fucking in love with_ **  –

Who doesn’t love him back, and who probably didn’t love him in the first place, but had a wild teenage crush while Kyungsoo assumes he’s the kind of person who doesn’t fall in love easily, and when he does, he falls  _ hard _ .

How did the guy do it?

How could he have sex like that without loving the person he had sex with?

Maybe it’s Kyungsoo who’s a bit conservative in this matter.

He’s watched porn. He’s fantasized about other guys.

But.

Having sex with someone you don’t love.

What’s so good about that?

Can sex be good even if it’s meaningless, if it’s only for pleasure?

You could probably ask many people and get a yes for an answer, but Kyungsoo doesn’t really know what to think.

He wishes he could have sex without a thought.

And maybe, well, he could, because he’s been having sex with someone who doesn’t love him back for years, and perhaps he can start pretending he’s never loved that guy anyway.

It’s all pointless anyway. The least Kyungsoo wants to think about is  **_love_ ** , and at the same time, it’s what his fingers are itching to obtain.

Nonetheless, the heart he wants simply doesn’t belong to him.

A telling breeze travels through his clothes, ruffling his cropped hair and making him shudder.

Despite summer rounding the corner, the night is getting chilly.

Kyungsoo only needs to walk down another street to reach his apartment.

Unfortunately, he’s not that lucky; wincing sharply when the softer part of the underside of his foot is stabbed by something hard, sending a jolt of pain up his spine and having him keeling over.

‘’Fuck,’’ he curses enough profanity to have himself get a ton of coal for Christmas, clutching at the front of his foot, not daring to look beneath it since the underside has started throbbing intently.

_ Shit, it hurts _  –

He’s miserable, sniffing sadly and pocketing his phone as he finds a seat on a stairwell that he spots right next to himself, propped under a streetlight.

Being left at home equals being left with his thoughts, so staying outside a little longer can’t hurt.

It’s not too bad, the scrap under his right foot. A small crack and only a hunch of protruding blood, erupting as small pearls along the split on the middle arch of his foot.

Kyungsoo traces a finger there, watching the blood seep into his skin on the tip of his finger in the timeless and almost hypnotizing state of the night.

There’s a couple of stray cats hissing at each other in the distance, supplied by the sound of the core of the lively city, present on a Friday like this.

Here he is, though.

Starting to let the loneliness catch up on him the moment a certain person is out of the picture, not blocking the rest anymore.

And he’s got no one to talk about it with.

Seemingly, his ex and him haven’t been dating. The most accurate description is that they’ve been having random sleepovers at each other every now and then throughout the span of two to three years, naturally.

The guy even had the audacity to ask if Kyungsoo was up for a game night this weekend, because maybe they could still be friends in the future and, yeah,  _ have more sex, because humans have controlling needs that excuse shitty actions and the act of toying with another person’s emotions. _

Which is great.

**_‘’Fuck you!’’_ **  Kyungsoo snarls to his foot with enough vehemence that he scares a bird out of the nearby tree, its wings flapping frantically and leaving on the dark sky.

‘’Um,’’ a second voice suddenly enters, strangely nasal, though with a soothing effect in it, ‘’are you okay?’’

Kyungsoo inhales sharply, putting his foot down and snapping his head up so quickly he swears his neck crackles.

He’s been too busy caught up in gloomy thoughts to notice the sound of approaching footsteps.

A man stands there, right before the end of the stairwell, staring at Kyungsoo.

He’s tall.

Kyungsoo can’t see his face at first because of the street light coming from above, so when the stranger hovers there, looking down, all that can be seen is shadows and the outline of his body; sculpted by broad shoulders, a narrow set of hips and long legs that can go on for a mile.

‘’Uh,’’ Kyungsoo gulps. ‘’Yeah,’’ he says dryly.

All he needs is, of course, some seemingly hot dude to check up on him while he’s in this state. Bonus points if the dude’s straight.

Mentioned guy seems to consider this with an ounce of uncertainty showing in his posture.

‘’Okay, but… you’re sitting on the stairwell to my apartment,’’ he says at last, voice so soft Kyungsoo barely hears it.

Everything is  _ great _ .

Kyungsoo’s cheeks are already blooming with the resemblance of a forest fire. Without thinking, he immediately raises himself, only to wince audibly when he steps on the wrong foot.

Two firm hands grab his biceps and hold him in place, a low  _ ‘’careful!’’ _  coming close to his ear.

‘’Are you hurt?’’ the guy asks.

Kyungsoo’s all stiff, no longer resting his foot on the ground, shifting to lean his weight on his left instead.

From this position, he can actually see the guy’s face, and –

_ Those glasses. _

It can only be Mineral Boy.

The only kind of guy that’ll come to a café __ not to buy coffee or food but to get a flask of expensive mineral water, sit down by the table in the corner furthest away from the bar, read a book and eat an apple while he’s often still clad in training clothes.

He’s only once or twice bought a cup of coffee at the café Kyungsoo works at, though the guy had scrunched his nose exaggeratedly both times and coughed when he tasted it, his reaction so transparent that Kyungsoo, who’d been observing him despite the distance, had to force himself to refrain from cackling in bad manners behind the desk.

In fact, Mineral Boy is also the same guy who’ll come up about six times in a month to ask where the restroom is, even if there’s a little sign on the wall guiding the customers with arrows.

He’s the kind of guy who smiles to everyone to be polite, and who can’t contain his fondness for animals and cute children the times he’s been standing in line and a kid has smudged their fingers on the panes protecting the pastries and candies that’re put on show.

There’s no in-between. He either wears training clothes and snapbacks – or flannel shirts, tight denim pants and shoulder bags, and always a pair of conservative glasses on the bridge of his nose that’ve got the hint of a round edge.

Alright, so maybe Kyungsoo knows a little too much about this guy without really knowing him, but to Kyungsoo’s defense, Mineral Boy visits the café at least twice a week and has been doing so ever since Kyungsoo got the job those six months ago. Mineral Boy could easily have been an average customer before Kyungsoo started.

The visits have varied too. There was a whole month where Mineral Boy didn’t come, and Kyungsoo had actually found himself worrying.

Despite all of that, they’ve only talked a few times.

The thing with cute guys is that rule number one for someone like Kyungsoo is to stay away from them, because they’re probably straight, have got a cute girlfriend at home, and they’re only smiling to Kyungsoo because he’s got crumbs from the bagel he ate at lunch still left on his cheek.

Altogether, the general rule is to  **not**  fall for them.

Friendship is an option, but rarely, since people in general usually don’t hook up like that in the middle of a café with a  _ hello, you sure are a sight for sore eyes  _ and an  _ oh, I need to know – what’s your name, and where do you live? Do you wear briefs or boxers or, not to be lewd, thongs? _

So currently, Kyungsoo only looks the other way and prays his eyes aren’t wet, eyelids puffy and the bags under his eyes as raccoon black as he thinks they are.

‘’I’m good. Taking a walk,’’ he laughs weakly, ‘’in the dark. You know? Gotta love them walks. In the dark _ ssss _ …’’

‘’Without shoes?’’ the light from the streetlamp reflects in the guy’s glasses. Kyungsoo didn’t recognize him at first because the hair is freshly dyed blond while it used to be auburn.

‘’Without shoes, yes… I lost them. Somewhere,’’ Kyungsoo clears his throat.

He hisses through gritted teeth in the attempt of taking a step back, accidentally stepping on another small stone on his healthy foot that had just stopped aching from the stone a block back.

‘’Wait,’’ the guy’s still got a hand on Kyungsoo’s arm, ‘’are you sure?’’ he looks curious and very much concerned.

Kyungsoo understands. He’s only wearing a meek t-shirt, pants and no socks or shoes.

An even funnier fact is that Kyungsoo was about to have sex with his ex when the mentioned ex burst out with an ill-timed  _ ‘’can’t we just be friends?’’  _ then tried to kiss Kyungsoo again, offhandedly mentioning,  _ ‘’it’s getting boring. We’ve never been real lovers anyway.’’ _

And they say chivalry is dead.

The ex has still got Kyungsoo’s fruit printed socks at his apartment, and that’s fucking unforgiveable. Kyungsoo sure isn’t coming back to get them, even if he’s going to miss them. They had tiny apples on them.

‘’Your feet. They’re hurt,’’ the stranger murmurs, leaning down and surprising Kyungsoo by putting a hand on the ankle, lifting it to have a look.

Kyungsoo loses his balance and clutches at the other with his hands on the guy’s shoulders, frantically staring around to see if anyone might be watching them.

The guy’s taking a quite observant look at the foot, even from the awkward angle where he probably can’t see much because of the darkness filtering the view.

‘’It’s fine, really, I’ll fly home or something,’’ Kyungsoo doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, grinning nervously, tensing at the grasp. The touch is surprisingly nimble.

He just wants to go home.

Maybe die in a ditch.

Or take a shower, cry himself blind and lie on his bed to stare at the ceiling for the rest of the weekend. Then bottle it all up and shove it under a rug, never to regard it again until it explodes in his face twenty years later in a children’s restaurant as he’s unhappily heterosexually married and has five kids and two terrier dogs and a job as a salaryman with too many unpaid taxes on his back.

‘’My apartment is right up there. I’ll treat the damage, alright?’’ the guy doesn’t give up easily, but he’s not pushy to the point it’s unnerving. It’s somewhat nice that he cares.

Kyungsoo sighs again.

Getting nursed by a cute guy doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

He can always pretend Mineral Boy is his real boyfriend. That they’ve been out for a long walk together, Kyungsoo’s feet got hurt on the way and his lover will take good care of him, and they’ll watch cartoons, order takeout food and….

No.

It’s definitely not a good idea to do this while Kyungsoo’s in this state.

‘’I really can’t stay,’’ he insists.

‘’But… it’s cold outside,’’ the guy says.

That sounds like a line from a creepy song that suddenly starts nagging the back of Kyungsoo’s head.

Anyway, it’s not that cold.

But the guy looks and sounds like  _ a fucking whining puppy _ .

 ‘’Okay,’’ Kyungsoo gives in eventually. ‘’I hope you’ve got a stash of alcohol.’’

He’s tired, he’s heartbroken, he’s love deprived and he’s so fucking horny and honestly, everything hurts, and ninety-nine of his problems are likely made up by himself at the moment because now is the perfect time to throw a pity party.

What a shame he has to drag poor Mineral Boy into it.

‘’Okay, okay, wait-  _ no- _ ‘’ he hasn’t expected to be swept off his feet, that’s not the usual kind of buddy-buddy thing guys do with each other, but okay, they can do it like that too.

The guy is surprisingly strong despite being a bit on the skinny side, uttering a heaved ‘’hold on,’’ while he carries Kyungsoo up the stairs, and Kyungsoo sincerely hopes the guy won’t slip and let them both die here in the dark. Maybe it’d be okay if Kyungsoo died, but not Mineral Boy. He doesn’t deserve that.

Kyungsoo weighs some, he knows. He isn’t super skinny; back in time he was really good at martial arts. Yet that was when he was bundled with strong arms and shoulders, a form of passion and, most importantly, didn’t spend his time chasing boys who’d use his affection to get laid.

Through time, the muscles have slipped off again although Kyungsoo’s still got the sturdy build. His time off has been limited and he hasn’t had the mental fortitude to do anything other than to mope, study and work.

‘’If you dropped me now and I died, I’d be pretty okay, actually,’’ he mentions.

‘’Do you have vodka?’’ he then bleakly asks, focusing on the important things in life. Not thinking about the fact that he’s being carried to a stranger’s apartment or anything. ‘’For healing purposes, I mean.’’

‘’I’ve got some green tea,’’ Mineral Boy replies under his breath, like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, apparently thinking that tea will fix bullet holes and broken hearts.

He puts Kyungsoo down and starts fumbling with the content of his shoulder bag, fishing out a set of keys.

‘’Would you like some? Tea, I mean. After I’ve treated your feet,’’ he asks, opening the door with a prominent click and a doorknob turned, the typical sound of home that sounds comforting even if it’s not Kyungsoo’s own apartment.

Kyungsoo stares. ‘’Yeah. Come at me,’’ he’s sluggish, limping into the apartment, hyperaware of the hand on his back that’s settled on the lower bend to guide him.

It’s warm. Mineral Boy’s hand is comforting, the pressure right, even if there’s a hint of insecurity – the hand leaving and coming back on the tour into the small living room.

The light turns on. Kyungsoo immediately finds a spot on the sofa, groaning as he plops down, throwing his phone somewhere, tiredly ruffling his short hair.

Mineral Boy is out of sight, but Kyungsoo hears some rustling in the apartment and a sink running in the background.

The apartment is small, though the homely feeling it contains makes up for it.

There’s a personal mess around of scattered clothes, some food stains and dilly dally things. It’s not too much and it’s not too tidy either, with a dull sound of a fan working in the ceiling, and it smells like vanilla and a bit like instant ramen. Stylish but simple.

Kyungsoo likes that.

He’s so out of his mind that he flattens there and pretends it’s his own apartment, grabbing the remote control to turn on the television.

There’s nothing worth watching this late at night.

And a squeak ten tones higher than his usual voice escapes his mouth when the channel he switches to turns out to be porn, filling the apartment with a blast of sultry moans for the 3 dragged out seconds it takes for him to frantically click the power button.

Just then, Mineral Boy comes in from another room with a plastic bowl in his hand containing hot water that emits steam from the top. He’s got a towel swung over his arm, accompanied by some other products that all make up a rather professional picture.

‘’Are you a nurse?’’ Kyungsoo asks as the first thing, cheeks still plastered with a healthy color from the television incident he hopes Mineral Boy hasn’t caught the drift of.

‘’Nurse?’’ Mineral Boy stops, blinking confusedly in a way that’s terrifyingly adorable.

_ Straight boys… _

_ To hell with them _ , Kyungsoo groggily thinks somewhere in the back of his brain.

‘’No, I’m…,’’ the guy’s voice is too soft, like he’s not used to speaking up for himself or doesn’t know how to heighten the volume, his gaze directed at the floor when he comes over, kneeling in front of Kyungsoo to put the things down.

‘’I’m a dancer, sometimes a singer for the nearby theater.’’

‘’A theater kid then?’’ Kyungsoo grunts, mostly to himself, intrigued.

‘’Yeah, that’s why I… Why I know a bit about self-care and such, because I hurt my feet sometimes.’’

That explains some.

The composition of Mineral Boy’s body as an example, even if the guy has a tendency to slouch and not use his full height.

This can only mean that every time the guy’s had practice, he’s chosen to visit the café Kyungsoo works at afterwards.

_ Don’t get your hopes up _ , Kyungsoo bites his lower lip, aggravated with himself at the spark of interest.

He leans back with another deep sigh. ‘’Name?’’ he asks.

Mineral Boy looks up from his hands putting the things in right order and stretching the towel before Kyungsoo’s feet.

‘’Kim Jongin,’’ he says, full name and all. So formal and polite. It’s so fucking endearing.

And it’s such a pretty name.  _ Goddammit. _

‘’What about you?’’

Kyungsoo shrugs.

‘’Kyungsoo. I mean…  _ Do _ _ Kyungsoo _ , if we’re pulling the full name card, yeah.’’

Mineral Boy _ - _

**_Jongin_ ** nods in response.

He’s taken off his shoulder bag and jacket and is left wearing those sweatpants Kyungsoo has seen many times, a cardigan and a t-shirt too.

He’s looking at Kyungsoo’s feet, an attentive gaze darting over them.

Kyungsoo starts to feel a little self-conscious. He’s walked for at least more than thirty minutes without shoes or socks because of his low mood even if he could’ve been home in less than twenty – he knows his feet aren’t as clean as they were when he entered his ex’s apartment.

‘’Sorry,’’ he can’t help himself. ‘’They’re a little bruised and so on, um… dirty too,’’ referring to his feet, pointing at his twitching toes.

‘’No, no it’s fine, really,’’ Jongin nods without needing to, sounding strangely breathless, gaze going elsewhere for a moment. ‘’They’re prettier than mine. Dancing makes mine calloused and rough and so on. Often bound with band-aids and bandages, you know…’’

‘’Pretty?’’ Kyungsoo regards his feet. The underside of his right is still throbbing, but it’s duller than before. ‘’Well, I’ve always tended them and kept them clean and cut, ‘cause my boyfriend and I appreciated-‘’ he grits his teeth midways.

They’re right, those movies.

That it’s like a punch to the gut. The mere thought of a past lover.

Except Kyungsoo’s ex literally dropped him about a heartbeat ago.

What’s a filter anyway? Kyungsoo’s got nothing to lose at this point.

‘’Ex… I meant to say ex,’’ he corrects himself dryly.

‘’You sure you don’t have some alcohol lying around? Just a sip of whiskey, maybe?’’ he asks again. He doesn’t even care about the  _ oh _  look on Jongin’s face, because the guy must stitch the pieces together one by one with the not very subtle hint as aid.

Kyungsoo even said the word  _ boyfriend _ .

But whatever.

He doesn’t give a damn at this point.

‘’You’re the guy who works at Café Cozy, aren’t you?’’ Jongin quenches the silence, avoiding the request of alcohol.

Kyungsoo opens his eyes, observing Jongin who’s on the floor, sitting on his knees, hands cupping the kneecaps. There’s a difference in eye level since Kyungsoo’s still slouched on the couch.

He hasn’t expected that kind of question after what he’s just said.

‘’Yep. And you’re one of my customers,’’ a crooked smile splays on his features at the memory of Jongin one time nonchalantly throwing an apple in the air that he kept in his hand while buying mineral water, only to drop it on the floor because he sent it too high, flushing beet red in the face.

‘’So,’’ Jongin clears his throat, ‘’you remember me,’’ he says, sounding strangely relieved.

_ We saw each other a day ago as you asked me where the restroom was again although I’ve told you at least twenty times since the very first time I had a shift at the café. _

‘’I do,’’ Kyungsoo assures and blatantly lists the following details on his fingers one by one: ‘’you always come to read crime, history mystery books, eat apples and never order coffee.’’

Jongin hides his face, looking at the floor again, still away from Kyungsoo’s feet. He fixes his glasses with a finger on the middle of the frame. ‘’I like the place. I just don’t like coffee.’’

Kyungsoo furrows his brows, because it seems like there’s something else in the words.

_ No there isn’t, you absolute walnut. _

_ There’s nothing _ .

He clears his thoughts. The desperation seems to cloud his common sense.

‘’Fair enough. I don’t judge,’’ he shrugs.

Jongin smiles in response, nostrils flaring due to the little huff he makes.

Overall, he doesn’t seem taken aback or as if he’s throwing a pity party over the fact that  **1.**  Kyungsoo’s gay, and  **2.**  Kyungsoo’s newly single and obviously still upset about a fresh ex.

_ Interesting. _

Kyungsoo smacks a palm flat on his own face, surprising the other.

_ Stop those thoughts. _

‘’You okay?’’ Jongin prods.

Kyungsoo is tempted to ask if it  **looks**  like he’s fine, dandy and running on a flower hill, but he suppresses it because Jongin doesn’t deserve that kind of attitude.

‘’No,’’ he chooses to be honest. ‘’If you’re wondering why I lost my shoes, it’s because I threw them at  _ the _ _ ex _  about an hour ago. I want to get wasted and forget everything, but here I am. Life is the bee’s knees.’’

Jongin __ does look like he pities Kyungsoo now, the genuine kind of  _ man, that sucks _  pity that Kyungsoo doesn’t mind.

Kyungsoo’s actually entirely relieved the guy doesn’t dig into it, because if he did, Kyungsoo would be bawling before he even got to the essence of the break up tale.

‘’I-‘’ Jongin suddenly looks awake with a new kind of energy, changing the subject as if he wants to cheer Kyungsoo up – ‘’I’ll make you some tea like I promised... green tea, yes? It’s mango and ginger flavored. And, um. And I’ll massage your feet. Doesn’t that sound good? If you- if you want to, you can watch TV while I do it.’’

He reaches over to take the remote control, and Kyungsoo’s life flashes before his eyes due the knowledge of what channel he left it on earlier, grabbing it before Jongin does and flinging it across the couch till it hits the opposite end with a thud.

Jongin stops, confused and mildly shocked.

‘’Uh,’’ Kyungsoo sniffs, ‘’green tea sounds  **_great!_ **  And massage, yeah. Massage, I love... massacre… I mean  **_massage_ ** .’’

Anyway, Jongin seems like the kind of guy who’s too innocent to be put in a situation with accidental porn streaming in the background, so Kyungsoo considers himself having done the both of them a favor.

It hits Kyungsoo just then that Jongin is offering him foot massage, hot tea and cozy television watching, even if they don’t know each other.

How good is a person allowed to be?

This angel… honestly.

All of sudden, Kyungsoo feels like he’s taking advantage of the guy’s kindness, but Jongin is offering it himself, so…

Free foot massage from a hottie, that’s a once in a lifetime chance.

Maybe not, but Kyungsoo can fool himself for tonight.

‘’Careful. It’s hot,’’ Jongin warns. Some of the steam has fogged tiny patches of his glasses.

‘’You didn’t make any for yourself?’’ Kyungsoo blows some air on his cup of tea, relishing in the warmth seeping into his hands from holding it.

Jongin kneels and gets into the same position as before. ‘’No, I’m good. I wore a jacket outside too. It’s fine, really.’’

The solidarism is blinding.

Jongin takes the bowl and guides it beneath Kyungsoo’s feet so that Kyungsoo has to adjust his seating and spread his legs to give space.

‘’Should I take off my pants?’’ Kyungsoo asks curiously, mostly to himself. It’s what seems to be convenient in this case.

He’s wearing long denim pants, the annoying kind with stiff pant legs at the end so he can’t roll them far up unless he plans on getting a rug burn along his shins.

Droplets of water slide down the side of the bowl; Jongin, who somehow manages to lose the concentration in his fingers for a second, squawking.

‘’What- why would you-’’ his shoulders hunch.

However, Kyungsoo has already raised himself, unbuttoning and slipping out of the obstacle in the blink of an eye, careful of his injured foot.

‘’It’s easier this way,’’ he says, throwing the pants on the floor.

At least he’s not wearing briefs, but plain black boxers tonight.

He almost considered wearing the ones with golden blocks spelling out ‘ _ bon appétit’  _ on the back this morning, because he’ll give himself a treat and live a little once a month and buy cringe-worthy underwear.  _ Yikes. _

He can only hope he can live out a shard of the solidarity Jongin has shown tonight.

Instead of going home to drink himself starry eyed, he can have a foot massage party with a stranger.

That’s pretty cool, if you ask him.

‘’You don’t mind, do you?’’ he asks, because Jongin has been staring aimlessly at a spot somewhere close to Kyungsoo’s showing hipbone with his mouth agape for a minute.

‘ _ ’No! _  no, it’s fine, I just didn’t… didn’t expect you to… yeah,’’ the latter snaps out of it and waves a hand in Kyungsoo’s direction, his laugh high-pitched.

‘’Okay, so, I’ll clean them first,’’ he taps the bowl. ‘’Your feet, that is. They go here.’’

The water isn’t scalding hot anymore. It’s lukewarm and comfortable. Kyungsoo can’t help the soft sigh he lets out. ‘’Ah, it’s nice.’’

Jongin’s throat bobs. ‘’Yeah?’’ he seems to comment rhetorically, front teeth digging into his lower lip.

Kyungsoo is perched on the edge of the couch, dipping his feet into the water and watching them get submerged in the plastic bowl. It must’ve been ages since he last got a footbath, and it feels great after a rough night.

They have to sit there for at least a quarter to let the warm water and soap relieve the skin, the foot pads and dry parts.

Jongin talks about his dancing and explains why he’s dyed his hair blond for the sake of a role he’s gotten in a musical, his face glowing as he tells the good news, leaving Kyungsoo feeling oddly happy for someone he barely knows.

Likewise, Kyungsoo talks about his business major and routine deeds, leaving out the part about his nonexistent social life at the moment.

The tea is good too, and for some reason, it reminds him of Jongin right now – a good aroma, fresh yet soothing at the same time, making the tip of his fingers comfortably warm, seeping deeper into his limbs and leaving a content buzz in his chest.

‘’Thank you, you know…’’ he murmurs.

‘’For this. And for not abandoning me on the street like some injured stray cat if we look at the bigger picture.’’

He means it.

Furthermore, he probably wouldn’t have accepted the request if it hadn’t been exactly Mineral Boy standing there, the concern horribly genuine to the point Kyungsoo couldn’t help but to feel drawn to the thought of being cared for.

Yet he also knows he’s had an eye on Jongin for a while…

Hypothetically speaking, of course; a tiny,  _ tiny _  thought in the back of his head that’s popped up sometimes whenever he’s seen him at the café.

But his ex was also a shit-head, and yeah, guys who’ve got that thousand-watt smile and manners like Jongin… they’re horrible.

When it comes down to it, Kyungsoo can’t believe he’s trying to justify the idea of warming Jongin’s bed tonight.

Supposedly, he isn’t the type to have one night stands. He certainly knows not to break more laws than what’s called for by going outside when he knows his sense of judgment is shaded.

Don’t bed strangers without a thought.

Don’t fall for straight guys.

Don’t project your feelings directed for a certain person onto someone else.

Don’t take for the sake of taking, and don’t misuse a person’s genuine intentions.

Oh, Kyungsoo can easily break one or two rules if he’s not careful.

At the same time, it’s so relieving to know it’s over. The ball of anxiousness of not being good enough, he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore with the relationship gone.

Love is a mess, and Kyungsoo should stay out of it.

But sex?

Maybe he can get something from that. He might’ve done so for the past years without knowing it.

Sex without love… it’s easier to obtain.

And there’s no shame in wanting it, people say.

He’s simply never thought of the possibility before, because supposedly, he did it out of a romantic interest in what he assumed was a mutual relationship.

This is a whole new way of thinking for him.

Throughout these considerations, he’s unknowingly kept his eyes on what’s before him, lips forced thin as he thinks and thinks  _ and  _ **_thinks –_ **

Mixed feelings loom in his chest, fingers clenching around the cup in his hands.

Jongin sits there with his messy side parted hair, a boyish hairstyle that fits him just so, glasses that make him look cute but irresistible when he takes them off and settles them over his forehead (Kyungsoo’s seen it in the café on rare occasions). He’s got that unique slope of his nose and thick lips that almost don’t move out of place when he speaks, as if he’s chirping.

There’s the gentle curve of his eyes at the corners, and the way they crinkle when he smiles or becomes embarrassed.

Kyungsoo really wants to kiss him.

Lean over, press him down and spread his legs to see what it’ll feel like being inched between, see the surprised expression on his face.

Or have Jongin between Kyungsoo’s own thighs, right where Kyungsoo can see everything if he looks down. It would be perfect with the position they’re in, him on the couch and –

He jolts at the feeling of something on his ankle, Jongin who’s mumbling under his breath while grabbing Kyungsoo’s foot, the hold deft.

He’s got another towel on his lap, directing Kyungsoo’s foot there, not shy about touching feet in general. He doesn’t look up at Kyungsoo, but the tips of his ears are red. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed Kyungsoo’s entranced staring.

_ ‘’Oh-‘’ _  Kyungsoo jerks his foot back, the small amount of tea left in his cup swishing and almost brimming over so that he has to hold it up and away from his body. Water from the bowl drips down his ankle, and some has gotten on the couch and on Jongin’s pants. ‘’Sorry,’’ the laugh he lets out is breathy, ‘’forgot I’m a little ticklish.’’

Jongin’s head ticks, like he’s got a kink in the neck, going from gaping like he did before to fixing his expression in nanoseconds. ‘’I’ll be careful,’’ he promises, and it’s endearing how serious he sounds, almost like he’s attempting to remain professional, treating a client.

He takes Kyungsoo’s right foot again, not touching the underside until he’s scrubbed it dry with gentle rubs of the towel, taking a peek at the cut on the middle arch.

‘’It doesn’t look too bad,’’ he comments. ‘’I don’t think I’ll need to disinfect it.’’

‘’It’s nothing serious. I got the cut right before you saw me sitting in front of your apartment, and I hurt my left one a little before, but that one’s fine,’’ Kyungsoo replies, leaning his torso forward as if it’ll give him a better view of what he actually can’t see from this position. ‘’Still hurts, though. Kind of like a sneaky paper cut, right?’’

‘’Those are the worst,’’ Jongin agrees.

He strokes a thumb over the front of the heel, making Kyungsoo’s toes twitch and even his thigh cramp from his nerves jumping. At this, he decides to put the cup on the small table next to the couch instead. The tea has gone cold anyway, even if he could drink the liquid at the bottom to get some of the sugar Jongin must’ve put in.

Nonetheless, what grabs his attention is the odd feeling in the air, something very strange about this, especially the way he seems to react this strongly. He knows he’s always been ticklish, but this isn’t the  _ I’ll-laugh-and-shy-away  _ ticklish.

It’s the  _ I’m-not-supposed-to-feel-like-that _  kind of ticklish, the jolt he gets when Jongin scoops some water on it with his other hand and starts cleaning Kyungsoo’s foot, scrubbing dirt away starting from the ankle to the heels and going to the toes so slowly and with rocking motions of his fingers digging into the skin, tending the rougher parts thoroughly.

Kyungsoo’s like chocolate melting on a hot summer day in the guy’s hands, leaning back, grabbing the edge of the couch to keep his fingers busy, letting out a soft, breathless sound reminding of a hiccup, because Jongin’s  _ really _  good with his fingers and knows where to put the right pressure even if he’s, as far as he’s said, not even massaging yet.

The best is that whenever Kyungsoo makes another sound, Jongin presses harder and with a more meticulous touch.

‘’You’ve got really pretty feet,’’ he murmurs.

That’s the second time he’s said so.

‘’Do you like my feet that much?’’ Kyungsoo asks on impulse, not grabbing the words and keeping them back before they’re out of his mouth. He’s seen how Jongin has both averted looking at Kyungsoo’s feet and legs, but now drags two fingers down one side of the ankle as if to size it up and look at it with more than eyes.

Kyungsoo has gotten compliments about his feet for looking dainty due to the gentle slopes and average arch and his clean nails before. Mostly because of his legs that’re almost hairless and smooth compared to his bushy eyebrows – something he’s also been teased for through time, so it’s not that unusual.

Jongin freezes like a deer caught in headlight. He keeps his gaze down.

‘’I guess,’’ he says at last, and runs a hand down the front of the foot before putting water on it again to get the remaining loose dirt away till the skin is clean and soft.

‘’It’s just that…’’ he hesitates. ‘’Like I said, my own feet aren’t... What I’m saying is that often, a dancer’s feet, especially ballet dancers… their feet can get damaged or at least battered through time. Rotated toe, displaced bones and knobby links. It’s more common for me and for my coworkers and friends.’’

‘’You shouldn’t worry about that. Lots of people who don’t dance have got ugly feet at natural,’’ Kyungsoo points out. ‘’Feet aren’t normally seen as a sign of beauty anyway, are they?’’

‘’They are,’’ Jongin looks up. His eyes are a shade darker than before, blond bangs falling over them. ‘’To some, I mean. And in some cultures too.’’

‘’What’s so special about feet?’’ Kyungsoo tilts his head. It feels good, getting foot massages and stuff. He’s done the footsie game with his ex beneath the table many times before, felt the heat from ankles brushing against his own.

Feet aren’t visually appealing to him. Maybe if there is a pair of legs attached to them, naturally, but not feet only.

‘’I don’t know,’’ Jongin pokes the big toe, making Kyungsoo squirm.

‘’You can paint your nails. Put on jewelry. You can have a low, flat or high arch. There’s the length of your toes, the shape of your feet, the skin around it and the structure of your ankles – how they stick out, what footwear you use…’’ he murmurs, lips forming a thoughtful pout on the way, glasses back on his nose, low on the bridge.

‘’It’s not just that. I really like the body in general too. Legs, hands, wrists, hips, collarbones, the lower bend of the back, shoulder-blades, the spine, these details… skinny, chubby. Dark skin, light skin and other nuances, and blemishes… Human bodies are really interesting. It’s our vessels, after all, and so are our minds. Be it mind or body, too many don’t nurture themselves like one tends a garden, though both need to bloom and have to be cultivated depending on what seeds and land we’re born.’’

There’s a pause.

‘’I sound creepy, don’t I?’’

It’s definitely something new to Kyungsoo. ‘’No. I’m guessing you’re the type who loves museums of naked statues.’’

Jongin’s brows almost disappear in his hairline, and the color on his cheeks turns deeper. ‘’It’s painful how accurate that is.’’

This earns a laugh from Kyungsoo, one that turns to nothing louder than a whisper when Jongin has dried Kyungsoo’s foot again and this time digs one of his thumbs hard into the front heel, starting there and going up, the touch softer and careful when it goes over the cut and then harder at the toe mounds.

_ ‘’Ah-‘’ _  Kyungsoo’s eyes roll beneath his eyelids as he tips his head back, ‘’you’re so good at this,’’ he says. He doesn’t even notice how he’s spreading his legs further apart, poking his foot closer to Jongin’s lap, like a crooning cat pressing back to get more of the touch, his other foot still in buried the plastic bowl.

He doesn’t have to say more than that for Jongin to comply, holding one of his hands on the front of the shin to keep the leg in place, running a finger over the toe mounds with his other hand and to the backside of each toe with such a finesse Kyungsoo can’t help mellowing out. His feet don’t even hurt anymore.

This is far better than what he experienced on a vacation when he was younger, where the masseuse didn’t want to give him proper massage because he wasn’t perceived as old enough yet and therefore didn’t count as a customer.

That reminds him –

‘’How old are you, Jongin?’’ he opens one eye, nearly stilling upon noticing that Jongin’s gaze already intently rests on Kyungsoo in return. Jongin blinks twice at the question, brought of a reverie.

‘’Twenty-six,’’ he answers.

Kyungsoo has to let the words sink in before answering. Of course that’d be the case, since the guy’s got a stable job.

_ ‘’Twenty-six?’’ _  he downright squeaks anyway.

‘’What about you?’’ Jongin asks.

‘’I’m twenty-one,’’ Kyungsoo’s the one blinking confusedly now. Then he laughs. ‘’Wow, I thought… I thought you were younger than me.’’

Jongin looks taken aback as well, the massage stopping. ‘’I thought you were older.’’

‘’People always say I either look like a freshman high school student or a thirty-year-old man,’’ Kyungsoo snorts. ‘’There’s no in-between.’’

‘’Your boyfr… your ex, I mean. How old is he?’’ Jongin then asks, careful with the words.

That’s an unexpected question.

Kyungsoo’s brows knit together. The stone is back in his stomach, but only shortly. ‘’Same age as me. We got together right before graduation.’’

‘’Did he break up with you?’’

So Jongin  _ has _  been curious.

Kyungsoo hesitates. He’s surprised how he doesn’t exactly feel bothered about the question. For a moment, he’s forgotten how he’s ended up here in the first place, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to cry as he thought he’d do if he ever got to talk about it with someone.

Suddenly, it all feels far away, and he calmly says, ‘’yeah. He wanted to be friends. Said he never felt like we were lovers in the first place. I can’t tell if he used me or if I used him, really – for very different purposes. When I look at it from another angle, I’m not sure what to think.’’

He raises a hand, rubbing a temple, ‘’I mean, I don’t know who’s the biggest idiot, now that I think of it. Me for loving him knowing it was fruitless, or him for using me to get sex when he knew I loved him and he didn’t love me.’’

‘’You’re sure he really didn’t love you?’’ Jongin asks. That one hurts.

However, Kyungsoo has already admitted as much to himself. He’s not an  _ unknowing _  fool. He’s merely a blissfully, intentionally **_ignorant_ **  one.

‘’I noticed it a long time ago, most likely. Or I know I did. I just didn’t want to see it; you know? You never want to acknowledge the truth if you have a feeling you’re going to end up with the shortest draw.’’

‘’And I know that finding a new boyfriend is going to be hard, since I’m not very open about my sexuality. I won’t ask around or go out, or try something on the net. I’ll just be lonely, so in that way, I’ve been pretty stupid too.’’

He doesn’t know where the last words come from. He’s never said such a thing aloud before, nor have the words crossed his mind while he’s been awake.

‘’Are you sure that  _ you _  love  _ him _ ?’’ Jongin narrows it down to an important question, framing it a certain way.

Kyungsoo has to consider this.

In some ways, yes, enough for it to ache between his ribs and for his mind to drift to a familiar face when they’re not together. Crushes can come and go, but falling in love hits him hard.

The love he’s held for his ex – what kind of love is that? That’s the real question.

Jongin continues, words as soft as before, and contrarily, his words are sharp: ‘’you’re not just in love with the idea of loving him?’’

_ Or with chasing the idea of being loved. _

And this is something Kyungsoo hasn’t thought of before.

It’s nice Jongin doesn’t go with the typical comment such as:  _ ‘’he was a bastard. Fuck him anyway. You didn’t do anything wrong,’’  _ trope.

Instead, he says ‘’depending on the circumstances, a relationship is a two-way street, I guess. I’ve learnt as much. I’ve hurt myself and another person too… both intentionally and unintentionally. And that person hurt herself by staying with me, even if she knew the truth.’’

‘’An ex?’’ Kyungsoo probes, glad he can avoid talking about himself for now.

‘’A childhood friend.’’

Kyungsoo’s mouth thins in a tight smile.  _ Ouch.  _ That one must ache.

‘’How did you hurt her?’’ he pries.

‘’By saying yes to dating her for many years because we promised to get married when we were children,’’ Jongin replies. There’s a ghost of the past in his voice, something fond but sad.

‘’I did it… deep down knowing I wasn’t in love with her, and later on knowing that I’d never be,’’ he looks at something behind Kyungsoo, the windowsill where a plant resides along with a few charms and other things.

‘’What made you finally break up with her then?’’ Kyungsoo asks.

‘’She was the one who did it, actually. Because eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew I wasn’t into women like that. She probably knew it before I did so myself.’’

He continues, ‘’in that way, I spent the years making up the idea that I loved her, and the idea of me loving her. For the sake of loving someone, to love her and to love women romantically, or for putting up a cover to shade something inside of me that I wanted to keep back.’’

The buzz that’s been resting in Kyungsoo’s chest occurs in his stomach too, getting stronger and stronger for every minute passing by.

‘’Isn’t it what we call skinny love? You take all that you can need and don’t know how to give it back,’’ he suggests, the smile on his lips bitter.

Their situations aren’t similar.

Jongin did the hurting, and Kyungsoo was hurt.

But there are the same needs that made them stay.

_ I want to love. _

_ I want to be loved. _

_ I don’t want to be lonely. _

_ I don’t want to stick out in society. _

‘’We can only hope what people say are right. It’s probably just a  _ phase _ ,’’ Jongin wears the same smile.

They laugh at the irony, both aching but comforted by the presence of one another and what they share.

‘’I thought you were straight,’’ Kyungsoo admits. ‘’Maybe bisexual, who knows. They’re out there too, like my ex. I think that’s his sexuality, at least, but he could be heteroflexible or bisexual too.’’

‘’How come?’’ Jongin brushes it off. He starts massaging again, and it must be Kyungsoo’s imagination, but it feels like the touches linger, becoming intimate and somewhat distracting.

Kyungsoo’s nose scrunches and he shrugs exaggeratedly. ‘’You know, semi-muscular cute guy with glasses. Always or usually dressed in training clothes… probably got a girlfriend at home he can throw around or do against a wall and who can steal his superman shirts and caps and wear it to bed.’’

‘’A stereotype of mine,’’ he can’t help but to sigh at how specific it sounds, these ideas he’s made up in his head.

‘’This is what you get,’’ Jongin’s laugh is happy, short-lived and barely audible, rather containing lots of air inhaled in small heaps and not enough coming out, ‘’a closet gay and self-certified art lover. Never been drunk before and never seen a 3D movie.’’

‘’How can you call yourself an art lover if you’ve never seen a  **3D movie** ?’’ Kyungsoo’s critical and incredulous.

The wrinkles on his forehead line out due to the fingers sliding down the front of his foot and picking at his toes in a smooth going, having him adjusting his seat and easing out a small appreciative moan –  _ this man is too good with his hands,  _ and this is only a round of foot massage, but it has sparks making the core of his gut feel warm.

‘’To be honest, I don’t know,’’ Jongin says.

‘’I thought you were straight too, since you’re really courteous with women at the café. By the looks of it, you’ve got lots of admirers…’’

‘’I’ve got  _ admirers _ ?’’ Kyungsoo’s eyes might as well bug out of his skull.

‘’Mhm. If only you knew,’’ there’s that breathlessness in Jongin’s voice again, gaze going down.

The massage continues like this, except a silence falls over them for the next five minutes.

Nothing uncomfortable.

It’s just –

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what it is.

The feeling in his limbs and the buzzing spreading in his body, and the hands on him now working on his left foot instead, scrubbing patches of dirt off, and despite this, Kyungsoo’s still got his right foot resting on Jongin’s knee, close to a clothed inner-thigh.

Instead of resting his hands on the edge of the couch, they’re fidgeting with the hem of his gray t-shirt that barely covers his crotch.

Jongin sits in the same position as before on his shins. He took a little break to stretch his legs before moving to the next foot, but he’s there, and the towel is wrinkled and stands in the way on his lap, rumpled around Kyungsoo’s foot.

He starts massaging again, going for certain patterns he says will make the blood circulation better, tending the softened skin.

There’s a point where Kyungsoo tenses, muscles in his thighs rolling at once and kneecaps nearly knocking together to shy away on impulse at the surge going from his foot to his crotch when Jongin puts pressure on a spot between the heel and the ball of the foot, right at the front of the heel.

It’s the place where Kyungsoo has a cut on his right foot, so Jongin hasn’t done the same there. In that moment, it feels like the air in Kyungsoo’s lungs is punched out in a split-second, the fine hair on the back of his neck rising. The surprise must show on his face, for Jongin stops for a second, eyes searching something on the other’s face, and then he starts again.

This isn’t a ticklish feeling.

It’s the same feeling he used to get from a hand going up his thigh, or maybe the touch of fingers dragging down his back.

Remarkably, his shirt feels too small; stretching it down over his lap doesn’t work all that well.

Drawing these noises out of him over foot massage is kind of embarrassing, but the routine has changed and there’s a reason why the hands are so good. Jongin definitely knows what he’s doing, and Kyungsoo takes his thoughts back from when he first sat down.

Jongin might be an angel, but he’s definitely not innocent. There’s a reason why he’s got a channel for porn anyway, Kyungsoo is reminded, or a reason why the first channel that comes up is that one. What he forgot to point out was that it was gay porn too.

‘’I can’t offer drinks,’’ Jongin says. His voice is thicker than before, the soothing tone deeper, ‘’but I might be able to compensate with a different kind of pain reliever?’’

It’s an offer, and Kyungsoo can’t turn a blind eye to the indication within.

Nor can he hide the blush on his throat and cheeks or the prickling around his lap, and his underwear that only seems to shrink on him with the distraction on front, trapped by the material, still soft but slowly growing aroused.

Sure, he thought he had the upper hand, or that Jongin was only a shy and inexperienced college student, maybe a year younger than Kyungsoo.

But that’s not what the fingers wrapping around Kyungsoo’s ankle at the link between the ankle and heel are telling, a thumb and index finger pressing a nerve there that has Kyungsoo jerking up, his other foot slipping in the process and sliding over Jongin’s thigh till it stubs against his crotch, thus bunting the towel away; Kyungsoo who doesn’t know if he’s ought to be surprised that he’s not the only one who’s gotten hard.

It’s like all he can get out is a helplessly strangled deep noise instead of proper words, a quick  _ ‘’and that is?’’ _  even if he’s sure he already knows.

His feelings are two-sided deep down.

Especially with the want growing in his body, and the beautiful man sitting before him who’s just like Kyungsoo in some ways, someone who wants the same, no misunderstandings webbed there or unbalanced feelings.

What would it feel like? Doing what he wants to do without restrictions, washing away the reminder of the past years and who he’s been with and for what reasons. He’s never been with another man.

There’s the second half of him too, the one considering how he’s going to react tomorrow.

He’s not drunk. He’s as sober as can be, even if he’s blurred by a filter he can’t put into words, nothing that’s got anything to do with alcohol.

He trembles –

He _  shivers _  with his whole body, a connection going from his head to the tip of his feet the moment Jongin leans forward and kisses something as simple as the skin above one of Kyungsoo’s knees.

The act itself makes it something bigger.

A lingering but chaste kiss, a tiny wet noise echoing in their ears when he withdraws.

The elder needs to get closer to do so, and Kyungsoo can feel the heel of his foot sink further down Jongin’s crotch, toes outlining a bulge and its shape easily since Jongin’s wearing simple sweatpants and seemingly nothing beneath.

Jongin slowly looks up over the edge of his glasses, eyes completely dark and a pair of tousled bangs standing in the way, breath puffing out against Kyungsoo’s reddened knee.

He pushes the plastic bowl filled with water away, gentle as not to spill any of the liquid.

Just as he tries to get closer, Kyungsoo raises his left foot, the one Jongin was tending a minute ago, propping the flat against the skin beneath Jongin’s throat and above his chest, pushing him back.

The action is quick and surprises the other, leaving the elder reeling backwards, tipping his chin, still breathing a little heavy since Kyungsoo’s right foot remains present on the other’s crotch.

This could easily look like a rejection.

It isn’t, though.

It’s the thought of bedding someone else than his ex that hits Kyungsoo for real.

The fact that he  _ wants to _  is what makes the churning in his body spread rapidly. He really, really  _ wants to _ .

He’s never let it overcome him like that. He’s had crushes on other guys, Jongin as the best example through the past half year, but Kyungsoo is loyal, and he’s only ever  _ liked _ -liked his ex.  He’s never had a chance with anyone else. He was so lucky that he found someone back in high school to explore his sexuality with.

Kyungsoo should appreciate the fact that they even got together, his ex sometimes said, who was mostly into girls, occasionally guys, but said he had a thing solely for Kyungsoo.

That Kyungsoo should remember to be grateful for having a chance.

Regardless, they say that the one you love should carry the feeling and smell of home and comfort with them.

Kyungsoo’s ex never did. Perhaps the latter only carried the wish and desperation of it that Kyungsoo had projected there himself without knowing.

In any matter, he knows it’s normal to love someone while knowing it’s not a good idea or that the person can’t bring you what you need or return the feelings in a balance that benefits both. It happens to everyone.

_ It’s a two-way street, _  Jongin had said.

_ The both of you wanted something from the relationship, even if it wasn’t the same, _  Kyungsoo finishes in his head. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Or that what the guy did wasn’t shitty and selfish in a way that’ll leave memories scattered as bad seeds. That it wasn’t guilt-trippy of the guy to make Kyungsoo believe he couldn’t find love anywhere else.

Kyungsoo has a reason to be angry and hurt.

A reason to treat himself and do something selfish other than the selfishness of throwing everything away to pursue a love he couldn’t get.

He guesses he’ll learn something from it by the end of the day. Being here makes him realize that he hopes he’ll never go back to having sex for the sake of first and foremost pleasing someone except himself – and maybe a partner somewhere in the future, or right now, if the far-fetched idea of love really wants to share a piece with him. Or if he chooses to bed random people like he might do tonight.

So he waits.

And Jongin stills, calculating the circumstances and the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

_ A yes or a no? _

Kyungsoo barely notices the show of his flustered state. His chest puffing, eyes boring into Jongin’s, the  _ want _  buzzing in his body so fervently he doesn’t know why he hasn’t thrown himself at the other yet.

He nods.

Once or twice, he doesn’t know.

Right foot pressing deeper, toes curling against Jongin’s clothed cock, the cut no longer aching.

Jongin’s eyes close in bliss. He moans deep in his throat, and his hips rise to meet the touch, a slow arch upwards. Kyungsoo can see how the lines of his body tense everywhere, the elder’s cardigan slipping off his shoulders and showing toned arms bulging beneath the shirt he’s wearing.

This doesn’t look like the shy, humble guy who meets up at the café to buy mineral water and occasionally a salad.

Kyungsoo can only watch as he rubs his foot there firmly, see the scene unfold and Jongin put a hand on the other foot still pressing against his collarbone; Jongin who’s cupping it with his hand that can easily knead one of the spots that has Kyungsoo pressing harder in return, a groan bubbling from his mouth, not contained like it had been during the massage.

Unexpectedly, Jongin leans in and kisses the inner-arch of the foot, bringing it up to his face so that Kyungsoo has to raise his leg a little, feeling strained yet pleasantly so. Jongin peppers small kisses there, eyes closed and glasses set askew by the gesture.

He digs his nose there along the arch too, the back of the foot, thumb meanwhile grinding into the front heel where it feels really good with the different kinds of pressure eased there. It shouldn’t smell of anything other than soap and cleanness, but Jongin’s nostrils flare anyway and he breathes in with a ragged heave.

At the same time, he’s got his other hand on Kyungsoo’s right foot that’s on Jongin’s crotch, holding it there with the hand over it as he thrusts against the sole of the foot itself with fluid motions of his pelvis back and forth that can’t be performed like that unless he’s lithe.

Being with a new person for the first time means trying out new things and that the usual routine might not suffice, so Kyungsoo doesn’t know what he can do and what he can’t. Neither does Jongin, although the latter doesn’t come off as timid.

There’s a blush streaking along the latter’s high cheekbones anyway, speckled mostly by arousal, mouth opening and a wet tongue prodding out to lick up the arch of the foot shortly, and Kyungsoo flusters completely to the marrow of his bones, not used to this kind of intensity.

They had good sex, Kyungsoo’s ex and him, but this is far from the same.

His ex was rough, liked to pull and to get the prize immediately, or would let Kyungsoo do most of the work in favor of dirty talking, which Kyungsoo didn’t mind most of the time.

Big parts of it were valued in the verbal play, to rile each other up, fuck and get high on adrenaline or to simply reach climax, for that was the goal itself. Sometimes they’d have lazy sex, but that bored Kyungsoo’s ex if it wasn’t Kyungsoo giving him morning blowjobs or doing the fucking.

The difference is stark.

Jongin doesn’t hurry, nor does he slack. He experiments and his eyes are closed, opening every half a minute to check if Kyungsoo’s enjoying it just as much.

He doesn’t say a word; it’s replaced by the throaty humming and whisper-like moans. He’s much more vocal and his face is honest, telling whatever he’s feeling the moment he feels it. There’s no pseudo-dominance play.

What’s remarkable to Kyungsoo already is that it occurs to him that it’s not the endgame Jongin seeks. Not to probe and provoke, but rather to form a mutual tug-and-shove play, to experiment and revel in the intimacy itself.

_ That’s _  something that really gets to Kyungsoo, has his fingers curling in the plush of the sofa pillow he sits on, nose scrunching repeatedly in tics at the feathery light sparks going up his legs as Jongin drags his tongue along the neck of the big toe, between two toes and around.

A hunch of Kyungsoo’s brain can’t comprehend the situation, but he’s sure his lower region can, the leg he’s holding up for Jongin to take starting to tremble, nearly trying to draw back but not succeeding because Jongin has grabbed the underside of the heel, holding it in place and most of its weight.

Kyungsoo’s toes curl in a strange pleasure. It’s like a pulse is coming through, needles of intense jabs cornering his crotch and making his cock budge against the front, the curve becoming more than visible, and a wet patch is adorning the spot where the cockhead is pressing against the garment from the inside.

Jongin closes his lips around one of the middle toes, sucking on it gently at first and letting his tongue swivel around it, then sucking hard till Kyungsoo can feel blood assemble in the tip. The tingling makes Kyungsoo tense everywhere, subconsciously putting a pressure on his bladder and making him think he’s going to pee from the foreign feeling.

Jongin continues like this, glasses staying on albeit getting fogged and humid along the panes. Kyungsoo has completely forgotten to move his other foot that’s still pressed against Jongin’s clothed dick.

He doesn’t have to, because Jongin has kept thrusting, grinding against it so all Kyungsoo has to do is to twitch his toes there to catch the fabric in the folds and maybe press his heel a little harder for Jongin’s eyelids to flutter and his mouth release a muffled, light moan.

Jongin stops with a kiss to the back of the last toe, lips glossed and eyes drowsy in interest.

Once Kyungsoo gets to lower his leg, he notices how it’s started cramping. He’s sensing they’ve made it to another stage as he can retract his right foot too, meaning he’s back to resting both feet on Jongin’s kneecaps again.

Two hands slide up the back of Kyungsoo’s shins, following the shape to the links separating thighs and calves. Jongin shuffles closer, and Kyungsoo spreads his legs apart to welcome the idea, shuddering when a thumb presses into the plush at the left bend, nudging a spot between ligaments that has Kyungsoo’s thighs flexing.

Jongin knows where to touch. He maps out the body before him with an admirable concentration despite his dazed state, testing places where Kyungsoo hasn’t ever known he’s been sensitive.

It’s off-putting as much as it’s intriguing. Past sex has been about touching what’s obvious and can cause immediate reaction – quick handjobs or to do superficial kissing. This is thrilling and unhurried, nothing overwhelming in the sense of actions; it’s rather the small sensations that start out as nothing but become powerful that have that effect instead.

‘’Can I take them off?’’ Jongin asks. His curious hands travel higher, fingers picking at the edge of Kyungsoo’s underwear.

To reply, Kyungsoo raises himself, using his hands as leverage so that Jongin can peel the clothing off without too much trouble, except Kyungsoo has to assemble and raise his legs for them to slip all the way down.

The urge to cover himself up is one he pushes aside, letting himself enjoy the heavy gaze on him and how slowly Jongin drags the underwear off, giving the side of Kyungsoo’s right ankle a kiss in the process and a few up his leg.

Jongin takes off his glasses and puts them on the table stand where the cup of tea rests, and surprises Kyungsoo by hiking each leg over his shoulders, nestling between them till he’s got a thigh on each side of his face, huddling closer and half-standing on his knees on the floor. Kyungsoo has to slide down in his seat till he’s baring himself explicitly and his shoulder-blades press against the middle of the backrest.

He watches Jongin drop down between his thighs; tenderly kissing the base of Kyungsoo’s cock that’s lined against Kyungsoo’s lower stomach and over the edge of the gray shirt. Kyungsoo digs his heels into Jongin’s back to hint that he wants more already, his impatience showing.

Jongin doesn’t let himself get tempted. He turns his head and directs his attention to one inner thigh and lets his lips linger as he starts sucking on the skin in the same way he’d done with the toes until a mark prickles and the skin turns pink.

Meanwhile, he’s got his arms circled around the back of the legs to keep them on his shoulders, running his palms up and down the front of Kyungsoo’s thighs, grazing some fingers along the knees and palming them, dragging Kyungsoo closer to himself in order to lick a stripe down the same thigh till he reaches pubic hair.

Kyungsoo’s completely taken aback, lower lip worrying and inaudible gurgling coming from his mouth in an attempt to tell he’s enjoying it, one hand gripping the armrest and the other the edge of his shirt, dragging it up and covering half of his face.

Jongin doesn’t say anything about that. He smiles tellingly instead, flustered but just as sly. A cruel combination, really.

After he’s done smothering the area in love bites and hickeys, he presses his mouth against the middle of Kyungsoo’s sack, tongue sticking out to trace the seam that separates the balls.

Kyungsoo doesn’t even notice he’s got a hand in Jongin’s hair, the one he held on the armrest that’s clutching locks of hair between his fingers now, his hips bucking upwards and into Jongin’s mouth.

Jongin keeps his tongue out and drags the flat up the seam again, then to the base of Kyungsoo’s dick where he’d put the kiss before, along a vein that follows the shaft until he reaches the frenulum beneath the cockhead, where he digs the tip of his tongue hard into the soft surface and sucks on it too afterwards.

‘’No,  _ no _ **_, Jongin_ ** -‘’ Kyungsoo lurches his torso up in the middle of it, wriggling because a warm terminal feeling in his stomach is seconds away from brimming to the surface, but he doesn’t want it to be over already; he doesn’t want to come before Jongin has been all over him.

**‘’No?’’**  Jongin immediately stops, a panicked look breaking the daze in his eyes. He withdraws but keeps the legs on his shoulders.

Kyungsoo closes his eyes tightly. ‘’No, no I- I was, I’m sorry, I was about to-‘’ he opens them again, flustered, out of breath. ‘’I almost came. But I don’t want to,’’ he admits, voice thick. ‘’Yet.’’

He’s dumbfounded, to say the least. He’s never come that fast from a little nuzzling, not even in his teenage years.

‘’Oh,’’ a sense of understanding shows on Jongin’s face.

Half a minute passes.

_ ‘’Oh.’’ _

And then it comes; Jongin’s laugh is so vibrant that it makes Kyungsoo’s shoulders hunch.

The blond buries his face in the side of Kyungsoo’s thigh, shoulders becoming slack and uncomfortable for the other to lean the bend of his knees on.

‘’Don’t laugh at me,’’ Kyungsoo grumbles, knowing his face must be beet red.

‘’Sorry. You looked  **_so_ ** scared that I thought I had done something wrong,’’ Jongin snorts unattractively, a sheepish smile crooking his lips.

‘’No, you’re…. you’re doing everything right,’’ Kyungsoo’s seriously got a lack of filter.

The smile fades from Jongin’s face.

He looks enamored instead, struck dumb like Kyungsoo, but for another reason.

‘’Well,’’ he licks his lips. ‘’Can I continue?’’

_ That look _ , the sultry one that somehow seems to take over his body as if a puppeteer is pulling strings to awaken a new side, twinkles in his eyes and returns as quick as it had disappeared.

Kyungsoo should’ve just allowed himself to come early.

In fact, this is ten times worse than to endure the mild self-made shame of premature ejaculation, because Jongin has decided to go  _ even slower  _ than before.

Whenever Kyungsoo as much as breathes a little too hastily through his nose, Jongin stops moving and lets Kyungsoo come down from the high that’s never quite high enough.

Jongin does all these things with his mouth, sucking on the cockhead, nipping there with his teeth gently enough for it to do no harm, diving his tongue into the slit and choking the shaft between his warm cheeks when he goes down on Kyungsoo.

The air is thick between them of sweat and musk. Kyungsoo’s thighs are strained once more, not in the same way though, for he’s got his heels perching on the edge of the couch, no longer on Jongin’s shoulders. He’s as bared as possible, while Jongin’s got his face buried between the ass cheeks, tongue drawing a circle around the rim and occasionally licking over the pucker.

His hands are doing that thing again where he finds a pressure point, now at the perineum beneath the ball sack where he presses a knuckle hard, while he with his other hand has got a thumb and forefinger locked around the base of Kyungsoo’s cock, preventing Kyungsoo from coming.

Kyungsoo’s head is lolled to the side. He’s panting breathlessly, trying to thrust upwards to get any sort of friction. His shirt is tucked beneath his chin, his nipples small but dusky red and hard on his chest, the little pudge on his lower stomach he’s never been too proud of framing itself as plump due to flexing his muscles at the sensory.

Jongin laps his tongue over the rim in thorough rolls and presses the tip inside. He’s been at it for long already, and it’s almost painful how much Kyungsoo wants to come.

He’s about to mumble a complaint when Jongin stops moving, the latter withdrawing to reveal his mouth that’s become swollen and wet with spit.

‘’Be right back,’’ he says, scratchy and barely restrained, quickly leaving the room.

Kyungsoo is left on the couch, blinking hard to let everything catch up on him. He sneaks a hand between his legs to touch the area where Jongin had pressed a knuckle in a way that felt good, but he can’t do it the right way, much to his own disappointment.

Some rustling and a bang come from the other room. Jongin appears in the door with a bottle of lube in his hand and packs of condoms in the other.

‘’Stubbed my toe. I’m pretty much blind without my glasses,’’ he explains his limp on the way to the sofa.

Kyungsoo laughs through the haze and welcomes him warmly, instantly urgent for more.

They still haven’t kissed yet.

That’s okay, Kyungsoo thinks.

Maybe they aren’t supposed to. This is just sex, after all, and kissing – that’s a thing Kyungsoo has always favored doing as foreplay.

That’s a thing connected to love, mostly.

It  _ is _  a thing connected to love.

Maybe that’s Kyungsoo being conservative again. Mouth to mouth is only reserved for lovers or aunty pecks to the family.

However, he really can’t excuse the urge to kiss Jongin right now.

Kissing strangers. That’s okay too, right?

It doesn’t have to be about love.

Not everything is about love.

Love is a loser’s game anyway.

At least on the romantic side of it.

Sex is just sex.

And kissing is just kissing.

However, for Kyungsoo, it might be better some things stay separated.

He doesn’t get to think that far though, because what happened at the end of the stairwell outside makes a reappearance: he’s lifted into an embrace and off the sofa, finding himself heaved up by Jongin so that his hands are locked around Jongin’s neck, hands folded on top of the blond’s nape.

Kyungsoo’s got his legs hiked around Jongin’s waist and his ankles crossed on the back too, cock sandwiched between their stomachs and his asscheeks grabbed by Jongin’s hands that in this way hold Kyungsoo’s weight in the air.

Jongin slots their mouths together, engaging them in the softest kiss that’s ever been pressed to Kyungsoo’s lips.

He withdraws to let their eyes meet, pupils blown dark.

There’s a shaky breath tickling Kyungsoo’s lips, followed by a second kiss that’s prompted by Kyungsoo himself.

That’s how it goes; as if time has settled in slow motion and all Kyungsoo can feel are their wet tongues meeting in the middle, the act of stealing each other’s air and giving it back anew.

Kyungsoo fists the back of Jongin’s hair, holding him closer,  _ whining _  because it’s so overwhelmingly intimate for something that isn’t supposed to be.

He won’t admit in daylight how he’s literally climbing Jongin, asking for more, glad because Jongin can take it and his stance veers only slightly. He’s in a good shape, and in reflex to the tongue licking into his mouth, his hands grope Kyungsoo’s ass cheeks tightly, letting nails engrave crescent marks there.

There’s no stopwatch to tell Kyungsoo how long it goes on. All he knows is that it feels good and it makes every inch of his body warm, even if it’s a challenging position.

Jongin might even stand there for a span of four solid minutes where they kiss and feel each other up. The pace changes constantly from hungry bites to slow mouthing and indulging patterns, and so does the one who’s in charge.

For now, it’s Kyungsoo who’s running his tongue along the back of the other’s front teeth, resulting to Jongin panting hotly, groaning a low  _ ‘’fuck…’’ _ , it being the first time he’s cursed tonight despite his otherwise exemplary manners and soft-spoken words.

Kyungsoo lets out a choked noise as he’s put down on the sofa again where he sat before, albeit his seat has become a little disarrayed and the cushion is almost slipping off. Jongin corrects it the best he can and perches on the edge of the furniture.

The position requires that Kyungsoo sits squashed there with his legs spread to let Jongin perch between, his neck bent uncomfortably against the lower part of the backrest and arms trying to find purchase somewhere above him along the same backrest.

Kyungsoo’s stomach is scrunching from the angle. He can’t pay it any attention as he watches Jongin pull down his own sweatpants to reveal his flushed, hard cock bobbing between his legs, the foreskin drawn up and cockhead spongy and red.

Even from the distance, the distinctive and pleasant smell is intoxicating, and Kyungsoo wonders if he can give Jongin a blowjob since he’s got little to none gag reflex, but it seems Jongin has other ideas in mind.

Jongin looks over one shoulder and leaves the couch shortly to get the bottle of lube on the floor. He pops the lid open, and the first words out of his mouth are ‘’your thighs,’’ he takes a deep, deep breath.

His eyes are completely dark, lips swollen from the kissing and way plumper than before. ‘’Can I fuck them?’’

And Kyungsoo stares wide eyed back.

The question sounds so polite, and yet it’s downright needy and raw at the same time.

‘’Yeah,’’ Kyungsoo nods the best he can.

He needs to use what muscles he’s got left to assemble his legs up in front of Jongin and himself, his lower back and stomach flexing with the action.

From another perspective he’ll almost be in a fetal position now, except he’s on his back and his legs aren’t all the way down but held high in the air. He gasps inaudibly at the cold feeling of Jongin smearing lube between his thighs, something that smells of strawberry.

When the elder’s done, he says a soft ‘’ready?’’, taking the weight for Kyungsoo by grabbing him by the shins, back hugging the legs and getting in position, tilting his head to the side so that he can avoid getting his face full. One of his hands dart up to caress the front of one feet, thumb streaking down the backside where it tickles.

Kyungsoo is trembling already and he can feel the blood drain from his feet. Nonetheless, he replies with a soft  _ ‘’yes, please’’ _ .

It makes him dizzy in his head with clouded desire when he feels Jongin rustle some more, letting go of the legs with one of his arms to rearrange his cock and slide it between the inner-thighs where Kyungsoo can see the cockhead appear on the other side.

Jongin starts moving and lets out a deep groan when his cock slides between the muscles that tighten on each side, grinding forward till his hipbones touch the back of the thighs, making Kyungsoo’s fingers clench in the fabric of the couch pillow.

Furthermore, Jongin has slid low enough for his cock to graze the front of Kyungsoo’s own dick every third thrust despite being taller, adding more friction to the act.

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows arch, and during the first minute, he keeps his eyes open in order to observe the doings, listening to the quick squelches, darting a hand down there to gently slide it over both of their cocks and give them a clench the times Jongin thrusts in as hard as he can.

‘’Does- does it feel good?’’ Jongin rasps airlessly, tilting his head even more to the side so they can get eye contact.

Kyungsoo can’t even nod at this point, held back from his previous close counter to a climax, dazed out and so unbelievably horny he’s sure he might come any second. ‘’Yes, more- faster,  _ please _ ,’’ he pleads.

And Jongin doesn’t waste any time complying said wish, lowering himself some more on his knees, one time about to slip down but catching himself with a grin that Kyungsoo returns. They get into position, and Jongin heightens the pace till there’s a dull, quick sound of skin on skin resounding in their ears.

He kisses the side of Kyungsoo’s left foot, the breaths coming from his nose tickling the ankle. ‘’It feels so good, you feel  **_so good_ ** ,’’ he whispers, words coming out hush.

Kyungsoo isn’t making any noises; he’s only breathing hard enough for it to sound ragged and foreign, a whimper bubbling on occasion as the warmth in his gut draws tighter.

A certain name is about to slip off the tip of his tongue just then, one he’s terribly familiar with. One he shouldn’t be thinking of.

He only realizes it when the start has edged out, making him cut it over with another ‘ _ ’harder,‘’  _ that makes him sound like he’s choking on something.

He can’t tell if Jongin has caught it in the hurry, but the latter stops abruptly in the middle of a thrust, chest heaving against the back of Kyungsoo’s legs, leaving the room terribly empty of noise aside from the fan in the ceiling still whirring.

As the silence passes, his face changes.

‘’Kyungsoo,’’ he says to the younger who’s looking up with eyes that’re glazed over, earning a frown at the interruption.

‘’I need to fuck you.’’

Pearls of sweat bead on Kyungsoo’s forehead, and maybe it’d have been better if they had turned the air conditioner on before doing this.

Love, hate – no matter what you feel, even with a man whose name you barely know, it’s the same feeling, probably.

Kyungsoo has got to admit as much in his numb and simultaneously oversensitive state, stifling himself by biting his tongue and later his lower lip, perched on top of Jongin who’s lying along the length of the couch.

Jongin even took his time to prep Kyungsoo with four fingers till Kyungsoo had been impatient and begging for a final distraction, still neglected from coming.

So Jongin had rolled the condom on with shaky fingers after Kyungsoo had stripped the both of them of their clothes.

Now, Kyungsoo rolls his hips up and down, hands on Jongin’s muscular thighs in a reverse riding position, his back facing Jongin’s front, riding the guy in a pace that’s going to make his legs and lower back ache tomorrow from overuse.

It gives Jongin the chance to see the actions clearly, the lines in Kyungsoo’s back scrunching and lining out repeatedly every time he raises himself and slams down to let Jongin’s cock sink in between warm walls that clench tightly.

Meanwhile, Jongin’s got the both of his hands on the back of Kyungsoo’s feet that’re blatantly put on display, cupping the soles and stroking a thumb down the cut on the right, on the other digging the heel of his palm against the foot, long fingers brushing the area around the very back.

There’s a stubbed moan rolling off his tongue every time Kyungsoo goes down, watching his own cock disappear inside and the slick of the lube and juice glisten on the condom when Kyungsoo goes up.

Kyungsoo turns his head to look at Jongin through clumped lashes and glazed eyes, murmuring thickly ‘’feels good,’’ taking a hasty breath, ‘’having sex with you.’’

‘’Better than with my ex.’’

And somehow, it sounds both relieved like experiencing a breath of fresh air – but also undeniably webbed with a hint of sadness too.

His eyes are wet, and a single, clumsy tear rolls down his cheek and jumps off the cliff of his chin.

Jongin changes their position by pushing Kyungsoo forward till the younger stands on all four on the couch, perplexed as Jongin gets up and slides inside again, this time hovering over the other, his front against Kyungsoo’s back.

Jongin leans forward to kiss the tear-track away from askew, in the process burying his cock deeper inside. He fits his jaw and chin in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, inhaling the scent of sweat collecting there and the intimacy.

‘’Say my name,’’ Jongin says against the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear, warm breath fanning out, moving his hips again so that Kyungsoo sighs out a pleased and desperate moan.

Kyungsoo does. He inhales audibly and lets Jongin fuck him, every thrust causing a sticky sound, Kyungsoo canting out breathless whispers of Jongin’s name through the tears dripping down his face and throat, some droplets hitting the fabric of the pillow beneath.

Jongin puts his hands atop Kyungsoo’s, intertwining their fingers that way with his palm against the back of Kyungsoo’s.

As the end nears and Kyungsoo can feel himself be taken apart piece for piece, the person in his mind has nothing to do with the past for a brief time.

‘’How do you feel?’’

Jongin is the one asking, turning himself to glance at Kyungsoo through the dark, since Kyungsoo’s spooning him.

Their legs are tangled beneath the duvet.

It’s eerie in Jongin’s bedroom, no clock ticking since he’s got a silent digital one with a laser showing the numbers on the wall before them.

The bed is a double. Comfortable and simple. Kyungsoo snuggles deeper into the mattress and cover, sighing.

‘’I don’t know,’’ he says. The words hang in the air.

‘’I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.’’

The after-sex cuddling is intimate and much required. Kyungsoo thought he’d fall asleep on the couch immediately, but instead they talked about everything and nothing, took a shower together and then went to bed to cuddle some more.

It must be early in the morning, since a bird starts chirping outside, followed by a choir of other newcomers.

Kyungsoo is weary and tired, but he can’t sleep. At the same time, all he wants is to cleanse his mind and disappear from the surface of planet Earth.

‘’I can make you breakfast tomorrow,’’ Jongin whispers, a cheeky hint. ‘’Or today, rather say.’’

He turns around so that they’re facing each other. Kyungsoo’s hand slides down to hold Jongin’s hip.

‘’Pancakes,’’ the elder offers.

Kyungsoo thinks his heart stops beating for a second.

He feels deep down –

That he must really be selfish.

That love and the consequences of it can make you do the most inexcusable things, as much as it can create wonders.

‘’Sure,’’ he whispers back.

He kisses Jongin on the mouth.

First softly, one that Jongin easily accepts.

Then another, one that’s harder, and the third one is demanding.

He gets on top of Jongin, relishes in the light moans he can draw from the elder, and covers the tan neck before him in harsh love bites, hickeys and lingering kisses; the ratio of rough and gentle entirely different from what Jongin had done to him.

The bed creaks for every motion – of Kyungsoo holding Jongin with a bruising grip till the fingers on his back leave red marks in long stripes, no condom taken in use but dollops of lube and lots of lasting marks, the wet sound of skin on skin and Kyungsoo fucking Jongin with what he’s got left till all Jongin knows is one name.

Panic.

Adding that to anxiety, that’s the first thing going through Kyungsoo’s mind, a far more vibrant emotion compared to anything else.

Rays of sunshine filter through the curtains and fill the room with a show of dust particles lazily dancing in the air.

The clock on the wall isn’t visible in the light, only enough for Kyungsoo to spot that it’s 1 past lunchtime this Saturday.

He stays still to take everything in. What’s the most remarkable is that the numbness that made him accept staying at Mineral Boy’s apartment isn’t here today.

That the filter is gone, his mind has gotten rest; he’s fucked the sorrow out of his system so he can comprehend what happened yesterday when he was at his ex’s apartment and the events after he left it.

Kyungsoo turns his head to find Mineral Boy, or no-  **_Jongin_ ** , sleeping soundly beside him, as if the guy’s dead to the rest of the world, cocooned on his side of the bed, an impossible flail of long limbs sprawling where they want to in a big duvet that’s half-draped atop him, blond tufts of hair sticking up.

He’s got angry marks and hickeys scattered all over his collarbones and throat, some containing bright colors that make them look like they glow.

Kyungsoo’s heart is beating madly in his chest.

He runs a hand over his face and rubs one of his eyes with the heel of his palm, quietly getting out of bed.

A pressure builds in his chest and throat. He feels like he’s about to throw up any minute.

Finding his clothes is hard. The pieces can’t be found in the bedroom, but strewn all over the floor in the small living room where Kyungsoo hisses and bites his tongue as not to make too much noise when he steps on a tweezer on the floor from the kit Jongin had brought.

It’s a miracle he finds his phone without waking the neighborhood by crawling all over the couch to get it.

The bowl of water still stands on the floor, along with a cup of tea and Jongin’s glasses on the table stand.

Kyungsoo quickly cleans the mess they’ve made and fixes the couch pillows since one has been thrown on the floor. There are still two packs of condoms on the sofa table, and the bottle of lube probably resides somewhere in the bedroom from the last round.

Kyungsoo can feel his pulse rise for every minute he spends in the apartment, crowding up on him because all he had planned was to forget. Not to get something new.

They’re on the same page, aren’t they?

They just wanted to be loved for one night.

To have sex.

That was the unspoken agreement, right?

Kyungsoo holds a hand over his mouth.

He’s going to puke if he doesn’t leave soon. He remembers Jongin’s laugh, his smile, the intimate touches and the offer about breakfast.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows he’s going to regret leaving. It’s two-sided, because he’s already regretting having done this in the flurry of untied emotions.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel.

That’s why he leaves.

Panic-stricken and even more upset than when he left his ex’s apartment, stealthy with the automatic lock, shutting the door which responds with a soft click that sounds a lot like home.

Maybe Mineral Boy was right.

About being in love with the idea of chasing love.

Or loving someone because it’s easiest to cling to what you’re familiar with, even if you know it’s not for you and it doesn’t benefit you anything anyway. Because it’s your first and it opened the door to something you had longed for back in time.

Because you want something certain from the person so bad you might blind yourself and forget the flaws in the whole act, and at last realize that what you want isn’t actually anything connected to the person, or something attainable at all.

Kyungsoo has been hurting.

But he’s not sure if he’s ever been aching as much as he’s doing now, blowing out an exasperated breath as the keys to the café dangle in his hand.

It’s been two months.

**_Two whole months_ **  since he last saw Jongin.

He unlocks the door to the café.

Having summer vacation is relieving, yet here he is; working today and taking a shift that he’s not supposed to take, doing it for a coworker who called him last night because the coworker wanted to go to a party and not take a shift with a hangover in the morning.

Kyungsoo turns on the light and puts the chairs down, preparing the room and the bar for the day.

Since a lot of people have vacation recently, he can expect a lot of customers. The morning hours aren’t that bad except for those few people in a hurry whose stares are mean when they’re getting their coffee on the go.

Around ten Yixing will come, Yifan at twelve where it’s needed as it gets busier the livelier the city becomes.

Kyungsoo mumbles something incoherent between his teeth, disturbed by the buzzing in his pocket amidst putting on his apron.

_ From: unknown number _

_ ‘listen, can we please talk again? _

_ ‘seriously. we can’t end it like this, soo.’ _

_ ‘i still have your fruit socks and your shoes!!!’ _

‘’Right,’’ he doesn’t even care that the screen says  _ ‘message read’ _  and that his ex will know.

The guy keeps texting. Not terribly often. Once in a while, usually in the mornings or evenings, trying to get in contact with Kyungsoo again.

Who’d have known?

The mere thought of the ex makes Kyungsoo’s skin crawl now.

He thought the breakup process consisted of lots of crying.

And it did.

For three or four days.

Now, Kyungsoo can literally dance on the tables, stitch a neon sign on his chest saying  _ ‘Single and Ready to Mingle’,  _ but he doesn’t, because. Yeah. Taboos, anxiety and all that.

He’s established contact to his old friends again. Things have definitely become better.

His ex and him – they  _ have _  talked over the phone after the breakup, and two times face to face.

Surreal, almost. That’s what it was. That when Kyungsoo finally agreed to meet up, the guy went for a friends with benefits idea at first, then lifelong romance and what else, angry when none of it seemed tempting to Kyungsoo.

He can’t tell if the guy is a bad person or not. To some, he’s a great guy. To Kyungsoo, in some ways yes, but not in this area.

That’s the way of most people; they’ve all got layers and too many pages to turn, and if the bad ones overrule the good ones in terms of your relation to them – or you get stuck on the same pages and can’t get to read the real book, it might be time to go.

And that was that; Kyungsoo said he had made up his mind and that he didn’t want anything to do with the guy whether it circled around romance or friendship.

That was simply a chapter in his life he needed to end.

This relationship –

It’s not been in vain. Kyungsoo was genuinely in love. The desperation was just as ambitious.

They’ve had good memories and laughed a lot.

Yet it wasn’t like lovers; it wasn’t an intimate friendship, didn’t consist of emotional support or romance or stuff like that, except for the occasional sex and cinema adventures.

They both pretended it was something it wasn’t.

Also, the guy’s still a dick.

Kyungsoo’s not over it, but he knows it would sure as hell be a lot easier to get through it if only he had a certain someone beside him.

Anyhow, it’s kind of amazing how good and directly pleasant it can feel to cut the bond to people who’ve brought bad vibes into your life, Kyungsoo thinks, stuffing his phone in his pocket again.

You’re going to miss the memories that you shared with the person, but in the end, it’s not the person and what they did to you that you’re going to long for.

And if you want to grow from it and learn, it’s mostly the bad memories and the figure of the person you’ll have to use as a stepping tile to reach your future goals.

Every new step strengthens you and narrows the paths that can lead you to bad places, in the process also ensuring and highlighting the paths that can lead you to what you’re actually looking for once you know yourself and your limits better.

So somewhere, Kyungsoo guesses that he’s feeling thankful.

Humiliated in some ways, sure.

Regardless, he knows better now, and in time he’ll get over it completely. Hopefully.

He cards his fingers through his bangs that’ve gotten longer, touching the high-cut too, one he got made last week.

His thoughts go astray as he cleans the machines.

They always end up involving Jongin.

The guy Kyungsoo hasn’t seen ever since that night.

He’s not proud of what he did. Especially because it didn’t feel like a one night stand in the aftermath, and it was only a month later Kyungsoo realized Jongin could’ve been serious, as in  _ serious- _ serious.

About the pancakes, about cuddling, about kissing…

About everything.

Ever since that night, he hasn’t visited the café.

Or he might have. In that case, Kyungsoo hasn’t seen him, or Jongin’s chosen to visit during the times where Kyungsoo doesn’t have a shift.

Kyungsoo feels a little uncomfortable to think about the times he’s passed by Jongin’s apartment, flocking around it like a bird of prey.

He’s never went up the stairs or knocked on the door, though.

He’s only stood at the end of the stairwell, solemnly staring at the step he had been sitting on when he hurt his foot.

Maybe he’s overthinking things.

Maybe Jongin hasn’t visited the café for months because he’s got vacation or has found another café with better mineral water – something like that.

Maybe he’s angry.

Even worse, hurt.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know.

He knows what he feels now, although it seems whimsical.

That’s the thing about love and attraction. It comes in many shapes and sizes, and when it’s real, it hits you headfirst, and it’ll stay like a burning gap in your chest that needs the last puzzle piece.

He wants to date Jongin.

But it might be a little too late to realize that now.

The place is livelier than expected this morning, and the smell of coffee stretches in the room like a veil. Kyungsoo’s glad Yixing arrives earlier than planned, who’s always been very diligent on duty. Yixing likes being in control, but he’s good at teamwork and reads people well.

Kyungsoo normally works a lot when he’s stressed in his head. He did that whenever he felt particularly frustrated with his ex as well.

Jongin used to come here, so being present only reminds Kyungsoo of exactly that.

He shakes it off with the blurt of his own voice, calling out the order of a customer who has to get their cup of on the go Vanilla latte.

Thankfully, the line has lessened and Yixing takes the next order.

Kyungsoo moves to the side and grabs a bottle of the mineral water he got to pick before opening the café, gulping it down mindlessly, a headache commencing beneath his skull.

He doesn’t even like this kind of fizzy drink.

He screws the cap on and shakes the bottle to watch the disarray run up the walls.

Just then, a familiar nasal voice disrupts him from tracing the bubbles in the water.

Kyungsoo can feel his chest tighten and something bottom in his stomach.

He looks over his shoulder slowly, sight blurring and focusing in the moment of adrenaline shooting through his veins in a way that’s nearly physically disarranging.

‘’Can I have a bottle of mineral water?’’ Jongin asks Yixing, approaching the desk. He’s wearing a blue flannel shirt, a cap and some black pants and the usual shoulder bag. And, of course, the glasses too.

His hair isn’t light blond anymore but a little yellow with dark roots. Beneath his arm, he’s got a book tucked, probably one he wants to read in the corner of the room like he’s prone to do.

His lips are pulled up in a friendly smile.

One that drops the moment his eyes spot the person behind Yixing, further ahead and next to the bar.

Yixing follows the gaze, confused by the tense look on Jongin’s face, and the surprised one on Kyungsoo’s.

‘’Jongin,’’ Kyungsoo turns around.

‘’Never mind- I, I don’t need anything anyway,’’ Jongin smiles weakly to Yixing in a matter of courtesy, holding his hands up as he slowly backs away. He apologizes upon backing into one of the tables where an old lady sits with her newspaper crackling as she startles.

**_‘’Wait,’’_ **  Kyungsoo rounds the bar, but Jongin’s face is so distant. He looks like a deer caught in headlight, something only he can manage in exactly that way, scuttling out of the café, the door tingling after his leave.

Kyungsoo curses under his breath. He looks around frantically, too caught up to notice he’s got the attention of all customers on him.

He doesn’t waste a second as he rips the apron off himself and damages one of the strings with the knot tearing on the back.

Blood rushes in his ears as he pushes the door open and scans the area with a quick glance, turning around three times before he spots the blue flannel shirt disappearing in a hurry between the crowd.

Kyungsoo chases him, yelling  **‘’hey!’’**  and  **‘’Jongin, wait’’**  again and again.

He nearly reaches him but fails midway when a stoplight distances them. Jongin has made it to the other side, power-walking away, perhaps looking back – Kyungsoo can’t tell from the distance.

Catching his breath is harder than the usual. He’s started in the fitness center again, and running has never been that much of a problem, but currently he might as well have the guilt the size of the world toppling his shoulders, and he swallows hard and keeps the needles threatening to prick his heart away, trying not to give in to the burning around the skin of his eyes and the urge to scream.

He walks back with an even wider gap in his chest, hair a mess and cheeks pink from the hot weather. He’s ruined the apron, so it’s likely he has to pay for a replacement, unless his boss is nice enough to consider the aprons old and ratty, using it as an excuse to say it’s about time they buy new ones.

Yixing is considerate. He doesn’t pry and decides to take the most of the orders, and so is Yifan when he arrives, easily sensing Kyungsoo’s mood but not asking since Kyungsoo has never been an open person about personal affairs.

They let him go home early and tell him to take care.

Kyungsoo says thanks as he leaves, fingers nipping at the loose parts of the old book Jongin lost on the ground.

A week is what it takes.

A week for Kyungsoo to gather enough courage, since Jongin hasn’t returned to get the book.

Kyungsoo’s been standing in front of the first step of the stairwell for a solid quarter-hour.

Evening is nearing.

The sun is disappearing in the horizon, dusk arriving. Red and orange blotchy colors are spreading on the sky, casting a soothing blanket over the city. Cicadas buzz in the bushes and a neighbor cat looks tempted to come greet Kyungsoo.

A group of girls passes by the lone guy, stopping to stare oddly at Kyungsoo who just stands there holding a book to his heart. They move on eventually, and a couple is whispering to each other, hand in hand.

Kyungsoo stares aimlessly at the front cover of the book, one with a title in Latin. The foreign and eloquently painted creatures further down form the idea of the genre science fiction.

‘’Okay,’’ he says, rubbing the back of his nape where sweat has gathered. He’s sprayed himself five times, if not more, with deodorant and once with cologne to make sure he doesn’t smell bad or start reeking due to cold sweat by the time he rings the doorbell.

Every step up the stairs seems to take away an ounce of the air in his lungs.

He faces the door solemnly, a hard look passing his face.

‘’Hello, I’m sorry I ran out on you, but uh…’’ Kyungsoo smacks his lips.

That’s lame.

‘’Hey, so I’ve been thinking…’’ his chest puffs. His temples are seconds away from popping.

He’s  _ not _  good at this. He’s talking  _ to a door _ .

‘’Your book – you lost it. When you, you know… ran away from me…’’ he groans and hits his forehead with the book.

He startles at the click of something unlocking, the doorknob turning down and door opening.

Kyungsoo freezes on the spot, wide-eyed.

Jongin does the same, halfway out of the door when he notices the guy outside.

‘’Wait- wait _ , wait-‘ _ ’ Kyungsoo wheezes, because Jongin immediately tries to get inside and shut the entrance.

The younger manages to stick a foot in the way of the door’s opening.  _ Okay, that  _ **_hurt_ ** _ s – it’s nothing like the scenes in rom coms. _

**‘’You forgot your book!’’**  he shrieks, holding it out and pressing himself against the door, nose centimeters away from touching the obstacle’s surface.

Jongin momentarily stops. He opens the door by a crack, snaking his hand out and making the  _ ‘come-hither’ _  gesture to get the book.

‘’You’ll only get it if you talk to me,’’ Kyungsoo says.

Jongin tries to close the door again, assaulting the foot that’s in the way mercilessly.

‘’Okay **,** **_okay-_ **  here you go,’’ Kyungsoo squeezes the book through the narrow passage and lets Jongin take it.

Kyungsoo doesn’t withdraw his foot.

They both stand there on each side, silent.

Kyungsoo counts to ten inside his head. He’d never have guessed Jongin has wrought out being that much of a sensitive guy. It makes sense, though. Kyungsoo’s a fine example himself in a different way.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he says, gazing down at his feet. He doesn’t know what else to say.

‘’For what?’’ comes a voice.

It’s progress, to say the least.

Technically, Kyungsoo doesn’t know where Jongin’s feelings stand.

He’s unaware of what nerves he must’ve hit, depending on what Jongin experienced the night as, and what he, during that time, expected from a guy who was just broken up with and who spontaneously hooked up with a stranger.

‘’For leaving without saying goodbye and not contacting you afterwards,’’ Kyungsoo replies.

He gets no answer.

‘’And for not staying over next morning to taste your pancakes… they  _ did _  sound good, okay?’’

Still nothing.

Kyungsoo bites the inside of one cheek.

‘’I don’t know...’’ he starts, ‘’what you’re thinking. Or how I’ve hurt you, because frankly, that night I needed a distraction. I was selfish. I shouldn’t have used you, and I wasn’t entirely sober if we’re talking about state of mind…’’

He’s really, really bad at this. This is coming out all wrong, shaping a rejection when it’s anything but.

‘’I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I- I liked you before I even knew your name in the  _ potential crush _  way, even if that’s kind of wrong because I had a boyfriend after all,  **_but_ ** my boyfriend was an asshole and neglected me in terms of love and care and all that,’’ Kyungsoo babbles.

‘’This is- this is only based on assumptions. So correct me if I’m wrong,’’ he nods to himself for reassurance.

Go for it.

Blurt it out.

‘’I’ve sort of got the idea that you… wanted more from me that night than just sex. Am I right?’’

The door presses even harder in response, and Kyungsoo keeps himself standing upright by holding a hand on the wall to get support, grimacing.

‘’Okay, okay –  **_maybe not_ ** ,’’ he corrects himself.

The pressure ceases.

He can hear Jongin’s hold on the handle adjust on the other side.

‘’I  _ didn’t _  invite you inside to have sex with you that night,’’ comes the soft-spoken voice.

There’s a pregnant pause.

Jongin sighs.

‘’I might as well tell you everything. I’ve got nothing to lose anyway.’’

The doorknob rustles again.

‘’I’ve liked you… in the serious way ever since I saw you for the first time at the café,’’ he says.

‘’I just never had the guts to talk to you, and in the breaks you looked upset or distant most of the time, so…’’ he halts again. ‘’I liked your presence, so I passed by to relax there more than I used to, since I was already a familiar customer before you came to.’’

‘’One day, I overhead you having a phone call in your break. I think you had a fight with your boyfriend. That was- was what I assumed, because you said ‘ _ you’re my boyfriend’ _  in some context and…. That. That meant. You had a boyfriend.’’

Jongin punctuates the words, embarrassed.

‘’From where I usually sit, the staff’s room isn’t far away. The door was open and… well, so I was gone for a while because I realized you were taken.’’

‘’I got kinda upset, but I was also relieved because that meant you were into guys. It’s kind of childish and a little creepy. The  _ ’I’m the right man for you dudebro’ _  style. So I came back anyway, because I… I mean, I found you staring at me a lot, so I thought… stuff. I got over myself and decided I wanted to visit the café anyway and get to see your smile even if it was useless. I don’t know what that says about me, really…’’

The doorknob turns down as if he’s leaning on it.

‘’I know it’s stupid in some sense for me to be angry. When I invited you over, I knew you were already taken. And when I found out you were newly single, I also knew catching your interest was unlikely, because that’s not how relationships work,’’ he laughs faintly.

‘’I was just caught up in my own fantasies and… I was stupid. I was stupid and disrespectful. Angry with myself and a little ashamed about my behavior. So I avoided you, and in the end, I played myself. I’m sorry for acting up like this when I should’ve known better. I’ve wanted to apologize to you for a while.’’

Kyungsoo listens carefully, a smile slipping onto his lips.

He trashes the mood slightly when he says: ‘’you might think you’re the one who’s being creepy, but I can tell you I’ve been stalking around outside your apartment throughout the past months; did you know that?’’

‘’I’ve seen it sometimes,’’ there’s a pinch of hidden amusement in Jongin’s voice.

Kyungsoo’s ears start prickling intensely. ‘’Ah, well, yeah…’’

He clears his throat.

‘’You’re right. What you said that night; relationships can be tough.’’

‘’They’re a two-way street most of the time, and they linger. How they do and for how long, that’s a different question. Back then, I ran away because I panicked. I needed to get over my ex before settling with someone new, especially when I felt insecure about myself and what I could present in a relationship. I thought there was no one out there for me.’’

He rests his forehead against the door. ‘’Everything was also so sudden. You’re gay. I’m gay. I like you – you like me? That’s…  _ wow _ . The guy I had  _ potentially _  crushed on for months and assumed was straight turned out to return it all along. The world can be kind of amazing sometimes, right?’’

Kyungsoo’s tone becomes serious.

‘’Also…. not so long after that night, I realized that what I was looking for wasn’t in the relationship I had with my ex. In the last whole year of it, I loved him because I had to. Because I thought I’d be lonely without him. Because he used to tell me I wouldn’t have a chance with anyone else.’’

‘’What’s his name?’’ Jongin asks.

‘’Jiyong. He calls himself G-dragon sometimes. He’s a part-time DJ. It’s a little weird.’’

‘’That’s strange.’’

‘’Yeah. Anyway, moral of the story is: I wasn’t ready, but I am now.’’

‘’Ready?’’ Jongin makes an odd sound, an incredulous grunt. One of his eyes appears in the crack of the door, squinted.

Kyungsoo nods. ‘’You know. Uh. If you want to…’’ he makes a flick with his head.

‘’To what?’’

‘’You know.’’

‘’Know what?’’

_ Hooking up with someone. It’s not as smooth and easy as it looks like in the movies either. _

Kyungsoo scratches the side of his neck with a finger. He’s taken a step away from the door.

‘’Please let me date you,’’ he says. ‘’I think I like you in the  _ serious _ -serious way too. I think. Yeah. That I do. I want to get to know you better, is what I’m saying, instead of us two eye-fucking each other across the café for another half year.’’

Jongin stares back, the eye in sight continuously narrowed in a suspicious manner. His yellowish bangs are showing.

They share a minute this way with him sizing the other up, the neighborhood getting quieter and only the peak of the sun present on the sky.

The ray on Kyungsoo’s face disappears, so Jongin must only be able to see the silhouette of him and the contour of his face in the dim, orange-ish light.

A switch flips, Jongin who turns on the light in the hallway and opens the door completely, letting it creak and settle.

He’s wearing the shoulder bag, meaning he must’ve been on his way somewhere. The book rests on a nearby table where a decoration bowl containing keys adorns the background.

‘’Okay,’’ he murmurs. The bashful smile on his lips that has his cheeks pushing high is something Kyungsoo realizes he’s missed an awful lot.

‘’Okay what?’’ Kyungsoo’s got to be sure.

‘’Let’s date.’’

‘’Right now?’’

‘’We could postpone it a week-  _ yes _ ,  **right now** , Kyungsoo.’’

Kyungsoo stands there, sucking his teeth and making a sharp noise in consideration. ‘’Okay, um. Right now.’’

‘’Are you going to come in or just stand there?’’ Jongin rubs a hand on his own elbow, unsure.

‘’Oh- yeah, of course,’’ Kyungsoo blinks out of the daze. He steps inside, outwitted that he’s allowed, that this actually worked, and that Jongin has forgiven him in some sense.

In the end, it appears they’ve both played themselves in different ways, like the wise DJ Khaled once said, but are currently under the process of fixing it; which seems not to be that much of a hard task after all when there’s communication present.

The two of them look at each other and what the two months apart have differed.

Kyungsoo smiles lopsidedly at the warm hand on his lower back. It’s comforting with a pressure that isn’t insecure like it was the first time it wandered there.

He doesn’t waste a second pulling him into a hug that has himself easing out a breath he hasn’t known he’s been holding.

Jongin’s hugs are like his very presence – a blanket with a mellowing effect, lots of unnecessary touching, the feeling of being cared for, plus a light spicy smell of ramen, green tea, old books and fresh deodorant.

They hug for long, pulling at each other as if they’re trying to become one.

‘’You’ve been on my mind 24/7, Jongin,’’ Kyungsoo confesses, digging his nose into the hollow of the spot where one collarbone shows. ‘’This thing called love and infatuation gets even worse for your head when you actually find someone you want to be with – not out of manipulation, desperation or obligation.’’

‘’That rhymed,’’ Jongin notes. ‘’The last part.’’ He trails his lips along Kyungsoo’s forehead, pressing a soft kiss to one of the temples and afterwards burying his nose in the black hair, inhaling the scent of a mild shampoo.

He chuckles all of sudden. ‘’I didn’t think you’d be a sap like this.’’

Kyungsoo grunts. ‘’I didn’t think you’d have a foot fetish, but alright. I can deal with it.’’

Jongin shoves him away with an affronted pout, much to Kyungsoo’s amusement. ‘’No kink shaming in under my roof. That’s the golden rule.’’

They both share a laugh, and Kyungsoo closes the door with a soft click, hearing the automatic lock settle with a homely sound.

‘’Where were you heading, by the way?’’ he points at Jongin’s attire. ‘’Also, you call  _ that  _ ugly feet?’’ his finger goes lower, directing at Jongin’s feet that’re wearing flip-flops.

Jongin’s skin has gotten tanner over the summer, so his feet are way darker than Kyungsoo’s. To the younger’s defense, he’s spent the most of the summer indoors or at work.

Jongin’s toenails are nicely trimmed, and there are no knobby links like the elder had said there would be.

They’re bony though, and have got the outline of faint veins on the front. He’s got ankles that protrude and look strong, toes that’re finely curled and the last little toe tucked under the second last one on each foot in a way Kyungsoo finds endearing when he looks at it from this angle.

When the hell did he even start looking at people’s feet anyway? When did toes become  **_cute_ ** ?

Crap.

Cute people with fetishes…

They’ll make you do a lot of shit in your life.

‘’I needed to go loan a book at the library. The one I lost at the café,’’ Jongin explains, visibly flustering under Kyungsoo’s scrutinizing gaze, toes twitching and curling in the footwear against the straw soles. ‘’My feet are nothing special,’’ he quickly assures.

‘’Is it your own? The one you forgot,’’ Kyungsoo asks. ‘’And your feet are majestic, Jongin. Shut up.’’

‘’Yes, I bought it at a market the same day I lost it. Which was kind of unfortunate, and I didn’t have the courage to go back and retrieve it. To make up for it, I have a pretty good memory, so I still remember the name.’’

‘’What a smart cookie,’’ Kyungsoo sniffs.

‘’ _ You _  shut up…’’ Jongin pouts in a way that’s slowly starting to become familiar.

It’s fucking endearing.

Kyungsoo doesn’t waste a second telling him just that.

‘’I’ve got vodka if you want some,’’ Jongin says, a little out of breath. He sweeps some strands of hair that’re wet from sweat away from his eyes.

‘’Vodka? I thought you said you didn’t drink,’’ Kyungsoo kisses Jongin’s Adam’s apple with an obnoxious sound effect added, fingers trailing down the course of Jongin’s stomach, watching the chest rise and fall in an addictive rhythm.

‘’I don’t,’’ Jongin raises himself on his elbows.

‘’My friend visited me after the escapade that night and thought I needed some…  _ therapy _ . Meaning we both got drunk and blasted loud music through the apartment, smoked cigarettes even if I don’t smoke either, and pretended we were Picasso by using cheap finger paint on cardboard plates.’’

Kyungsoo perks up, trying to visualize the scene in his head.

‘’For the first time in my life, I got drunk. It backlashed,’’ Jongin continues. ‘’I got wasted and passed out, and she had to help me to the toilet because I accidentally ruined my glasses by sitting on them. Next morning, she told me I got emotional drunk and cried ninety percent of the time and drew broken hearts and feet on the floor instead.’’

‘’That sounds like a wild ride,’’ Kyungsoo cocks a brow. ‘’No thanks, though. I think I’ll have some green tea, actually. The one with mango and ginger flavor. Got any of that?’’

Jongin looks like he’s sucked on a lemon. ‘’I’ve had too much of that – it’s making me sick. I need someone to drink the rest so I can go out and buy something new.’’

Kyungsoo kisses the frown off the mouth before him tenderly, transferring a smile there until they’re both glowing.

‘’I’ll gladly volunteer.’’

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted


End file.
